George - A Disgruntled Twenty Something

"What the fuck George!" You hear a feminine voice break through your peaceful dream state. Blinking it takes you a moment to register that you're hearing your roomate Jen yelling from the kitchen. With a tired groan you sit up and check the time, eight AM on a Saturday and she was already bitching at you. Resigned you get out of bed, get dressed and head out to the kitchen. You find Jen in her usual pissed off stance, one fist resting on a hip while she's holding the a half empty bottle of Coke in the other. Jen's admittedly stunning face is marred by her set jaw and rage crinkled eyes.

It was Jen's beauty that had led you to accept her as a roommate despite barely knowing her. She has flawless golden skin, angular features, striking green eyes, long wavy hair currently dyed deep purple, and the body of a swimsuit model. Unfortunatly she also has the controlling personality of a drill sergeant. You'd hoped to become friends and maybe even more when you moved in together after college, having met through a mutual friend. Instead six months into your two year lease you seemed to hate each other more with each passing day.

Jen thrusts the bottle of soda in your face. "Do you see what's written on this bottle, George?" She asks in a condescending tone, pointing at the word "Jen." Written in black sharpie. "Can you read, George?"

"It's a Coke, Jen. I'll buy you a new one. Calm the fuck down." You grumble, rolling your eyes.

"It's not about how much it costs." Jen slams the bottle down on the counter. "It's about mutual respect. We have rules we agreed on. If something has my name written on it, it's mine. If it has your name written on it, it's yours. How is that too complicated for you to understand?"

"Oh my god, shut the fuck up!" You yell back, your annoyance boiling over. You march over to the fridge yank the door open, pull another of Jen's sodas out of the fridge then pull open the designated junk drawer and take out a sharpie.

"What are you doing?" Jen snaps at you.

You cross out Jen's name on the soda and write your own name across the label. Then you turn an show her. "I'm drinking my soda, bitch." You open the Coke and take a big triumphant swig. You expect Jen to explode in anger but instead she continues to stare at you, arms folded under her c cup breasts.

"Fine. But what about MY soda that you drank half of last night?" She growls.

You blink in confusion. "This is...fuck are you really that stupid?" You laugh.

"I'm not stupid." She spits back. "It's got your name on it, obviously it's yours."

"Seriously? You just watched me cross your name out and write mine. Are you really that committed to this whole labeling point?"

Jen looks at you like you're an idiot and rolls her eyes. "Whatever. Just leave my shit alone, okay? Especially when you have your own pop in the fridge."

You reach over and grab the half empty bottle Jen is freaking out about and once again X her name out and write your own. "This one was mine too." You say with a smug grin, "So you better apologize for yelling at me." You wiggle it in front of her face, hopping you've out annoyed whatever absurd manipulation strategy she's going for.

"Oh my god." Jen gasps, "I'm so sorry. I could have sworn that was mine." Jen looks legitimately remorseful and even slightly embarrassed.

"What?" Is all you can say.

"I mean it's obviously got your name on it. How could I have missed that? I'm sorry. You were right I was being a total bitch. How can I make it up to you?" She looks into your eyes and bats her eyelashes.

"Jesus you're committed to making this point." You murmur. "Okay, I'll play along. If you want to make it up to me give me your hand for a minute."

"Okay?" Jen holds her hand out to you and grab it, quickly writing your name on her palm.

"There. Now I own you by your own stupid logic." You gloat.

Jen looks at her palm blinks a few times and says. "Oh...I guess you do own me. Is there anything you want me to do?"

You'd thought for sure that would be her breaking point. Glaring at the pretty girl you think about what you could tell her that would get her to break.