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During my senior year of college, I roomed with a guy--close friend, actually--who has proven to be the most fertile source of college stories. Perhaps they are of no real interest to anyone, but I am going to write this one down anyway, as it is tangentially connected with the actual node topic.

This roommate, let's call him Matt, was dumped by his long-time girlfriend early in the year. While this sent him into a short-term bout of deep but extremely obnoxious depression, on a longer-term basis it also turned him into a real dog. He must have had at least six (that I remember) short and disastrous relationships during the remainder of the year, often relationships that would have been much more sane had they been one-night stands.


The one that did the most damage to his psyche was a woman named, oh, I don't know, Sara. The relationship was a long time coming (they'd flirted with each other for well over a year), and a short time disintegrating (about a month and a half). During this time, they went to a concert given by a then-popular but now all-but-forgotten band, Jesus Jones. Matt purchased their CD as a memento.

Then they broke up. At first, things were OK. But when it later became clear that not only did Sara not want to go out with Matt, but in actual fact did not want anything whatsoever to do with him, Matt grew enraged.

I was sitting on our couch one night when Matt returned from some such encounter. He stormed over to the CD rack, drew out the offending Jesus Jones opus, stormed into the bedroom, drew out a very large knife he'd recently purchased from L.L. Bean, opened the case, and stabbed the CD to death. The words are unspoken, but somewhere in his mind the thought flies, "Take this offering, O gods, and let my anger be assuaged!"

I wrote a haiku about it. I can't remember what I actually put down, but it went something like this:


He threw the pieces out into the wintry night air.