i like pepsi

8

“Whatever it is that you wanna do, stay passionate about it. Stay fearless, you know, and just don’t care what other people think.”

3

LATER ON AT SCHOOL…

SONG: so what is it that you two want with Pepsi? you haven’t even told me!

EMILY: well… i cannot deny that he is an absolute radiant beauty of blondness and freckles but… we really want to join his anime club…

SONG: that’s it?! seriously?! just ask him if you can join then!

ETHAN: it’s not as easy as that, is it Emily?! everytime we try to, we just get intimidated by his good looks!

Steal my groceries? I'll steal your mama's homemade tamales.

TL;DR Bratty roommate steals more than just my groceries; I steal her mom’s homemade tamales. She suddenly learns to respect my stuff.

Buckle in kids, this is a long one, but well worth the ride.

This happened nearly 15 years ago, when I was in college renting a house with two other people. In order to understand the gravity of this situation you must first understand the dynamic between my female roommate (whom I’ll call Becky) and myself (also female). We had one guy roommate (I’ll call him Bob), and the three of us all worked together at a restaurant and lived in the same house for 2 years.

So the three of us were pretty close during that time, we shared a friend group, worked together, and had roomed together a year prior. However, to say Becky and I were friends would be a generous assessment of the true nature of our relationship. You see, Becky and I come from very different backgrounds and also have diametrically opposite personalities. She was from a lower socioeconomic group, a racial minority, and street-savvy. I am the WASPiest wasp of all wasps who ever wasped, come from middle class whiteville and am terribly naive.  (I’ve learned a lot about my naiveté since then but I can still be a little dim to the true nature of people and have been hurt many times because of this.)

Becky, being the scrappy hood rat she was, liked taking advantage of people. We couldn’t leave a store without her stealing something and then later bragging about the “five-finger discount” she got.  She stole things from me and our other roommate, she manipulated people in our friend group to try and make me an outsider, she used me for my car, and she bullied me constantly by making snide remarks about being spoiled and telling anyone and everyone who would listen that my parents paid my rent. Yes, my parents paid my $300 share of the monthly rent because I was going to school full time and working a thankless waitressing job, the horror.

Okay so enough background. In the second year of our time in the house, Becky lost her job at the restaurant and decided not to work anymore. She also wasn’t going to school, didn’t have a car, and so she’d sit in her room all day smoking and drinking pepsi. About this time she got herself a boyfriend with a full time, well-paying job, so he was able to provide her with all the cigarettes and pepsi her little heart desired. One thing her boyfriend didn’t do, however, was reimburse me for the groceries she ate that I bought.

Every time I bought groceries, Becky would help herself to whatever I bought and sometimes sheepishly offer to pay me back. Which you already know she never did. Because how would she? She had no job and no money and I don’t like pepsi.

So this goes on for months, because in addition to being woefully naive, I was also a giant wuss who wouldn’t stand up for myself. (This has thankfully changed in my 30s. IDGAF about calling people out on their shit and am good at protecting myself from being used by the Beckys of the world, but back then I was a total doormat. I’d get angry with people, but I couldn’t stand up for myself). I would buy $80 worth of groceries for myself, Becky would proceed to slowly leech off my stash and I would run out before I had more grocery money. She never paid me or offered any exchange of goods or services for this food, and I never demanded them, and she knew I was too scared to stand up to her, so she kept this cycle up for a very long time.

Finally fed up with having my food eaten without reimbursement, and reaching the limit of my own door-matness, I proposed that we implement private shelves in the pantry and fridge, so as to avoid confusion about who was eating whose food. Becky scoffed at this idea, saying it would be too easy to misplace things and it could lead to fighting in the house, so we just shouldn’t do it.

Fearing Becky’s wrath, I backed down and started hiding food in my room, which was useless because Becky broke into my room and stole from my stash anyway.

Now comes the revenge part.

Becky’s mom made the most mouth-wateringly delicious homemade tamales you’ve ever tasted. Like, no foolin’. They were a rare treat that she only made a couple of times a year, and Becky rarely got to have any because her parents lived several hours away. So one weekend Becky’s parents come to town, and mama made tamales. Their tantalizing aroma filled our house the moment she walked through the door, and we all knew this was her dankest batch yet. Becky, being the kind of person who liked bragging about anything and everything she could hold over people’s heads to make herself feel important, boasted all weekend about how her mom brought homemade tamales and they were all for her and I couldn’t have any.

So one night, after Becky’s parents have gone back home, Bob and I go out for some drinks. We head back home and decide to do it right and invite a couple of friends over and drink a little more, and smoke a little more, til we’re both nice and toasted. And hungry.

Since Becky and her now near live-in boyfriend have eaten most of my food, and because they never bother to buy groceries themselves or reimburse me for mine, there’s barely any food in the house. But there are tamales.

So Bob and I, in our drunken reverie, help ourselves to homemade tamales. And we eat every.last.one. And they are delicious. They were, without a doubt, the best homemade tamales I’ve ever had. And that’s saying a lot because I’ve had a few.

Later that night, Becky emerges from her room, walks over to the fridge, opens the door, and after a moment asks, where are my tamales? Bob and I, full of tamale and booze and THC and not giving a fuck, tell her we ate them. Becky slams the refrigerator door shut, exclaims “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME”, stomps down the hall, slams the door to her room, and yells to her boyfriend “they fucking ate them!”.

You’re goddamn right.

A few days pass while Becky avoids me and is generally even more unpleasant than usual. Finally, one afternoon as I’m looking for food in the pantry, Becky and her bf come in with a few bags of groceries. As they’re unloading them she tells me she’s decided it would be a good idea if we had assigned shelves in the pantry and fridge to avoid any confusion about who’s eating what. She decided. Mmhmm, sure Becky.

And she never ate any of my groceries again.

And that, dear friends, is my tale of petty revenge. Thanks for reading :)

No offence but can y'all please start including the balloon squad in ur “main” edits bc they’re literally focus characters of season 4 like…stop pretending it’s girl squad+boy squad+Eskild vs. balloon squad

a couple of days ago I had a dream that Sephiroth’s shirtless alt was finally released for Dissidia AC and I went like buck wild on here on tumblr dot com but that’s like…a relatively normal Sephiroth dream, so my brain went ‘that won’t do’ and so last night I had a dream where I went to the supermarket for some diet Pepsi and they were out, so I started crying in the middle of the drinks aisle and somebody had to drag me to the counter where the manager tried to console me but I kept wailing and then the door to the backroom opened and when I look up who do I see??

Sephiroth comes out with a giant case of diet Pepsi and he’s like ‘I’m so sorry, we thought we were out but we had a case left’ and in my dream state he was wearing a uniform and he was just another employee to me so I was like ‘thanks’ and I bought the whole case