Better stick with a male roommate

Sure, Chip had been a complete meathead most of the time, but did I really want the complication of bringing a female roommate into my life? Sharing the bathroom with some chick who'd need an hour to put her makeup on? Hairspray residue on the mirror? Bras and pantyhose hung all over the place? Running into her one-night-stands in the kitchen in the morning?

Okay, that last would definitely be the worst. At least when Chip had brought some cheap tart home, it had been somewhat pleasant to run into her the next morning, padding around in nothing but one of his jerseys. No way did I want to run into some dude in just his boxers drinking up all the coffee.

Unless, of course, I could find an actual cheap tart as a roommate? Nah. If I'd learned anything through four years of high school and two of college, it was that the percentage of the female population into skinny, brainy computer nerds like myself is vanishingly small. Oh, sure, they'd act all sweet and flirty to get help with their Calculus homework. But ask them out on a date? One way ticket to rejection.

So, yeah: the last part of the ad needs to read, "Male applicants only." I read back over what I'd written, and posted my ad to the site.

Just for kicks, I checked out the other ads, and noticed that my rent price was fairly typical, but that most of the other places available didn't sound as nice as mine. Given that it was the middle of summer in a college town, I didn't figure to hear anything soon.

I looked around the apartment and considered the need to rearrange a few things now that Chip was gone. Maybe do the dishes? Nah. It'd be just me for a while, I was sure. No one to impress. The next day was Sunday, which meant my first shift of the week at my summer job; for now, though, a good chunk of the day stretched before me.

Turning my attention back to my laptop, I did what any red-blooded college guy with a little newfound privacy would do: I started surfing the Internet for porn.