no-fi "magazine" presents
"Lisa's Roommate is Crazy"
or "Why I Try to Convince Lisa to Stay in a Hotel"
or "The Cook and the Kook" by Roger Boxx



I must preface my essay by explaining that I am a huge fan of eccentric and colorful people. I tend to migrate toward people who break from the mundane and follow the beat of a different drummer.

First, Marci stands about five feet tall with what I have been lead to believe is Latin American heritage. She has dyed jet black hair cut in a short bob. When going out, she resembles a mime, with white face paint, black accents and black clothes. She has 12 piercings and 3 tattoos: a thorny vine, a flaming bloody sacred heart, and Chilly Willy the Penguin.

Next, I must explain the layout of the apartment the two ladies share. The pad rests above a bookstore in a quaint, tree-lined part of town. A single door on a large wide brick wall opens to s steep staircase to their front door. The front door opens into the family-room area where we find couch, chairs, coffee table, television, and a large window with a pleasant view. To the right you would pass the kitchen and Lisa's bedroom on your way to the bathroom. To the left: a not so pleasant view. Double doors pained with a grid of windows open into Marci's room. She chooses not to cover the back of the doors, forcing a view directly into her bedroom. Marci's floor is littered with porno magazines and cigarette boxes. Her walls are decorated with posters for her favorite movies (Sharon Stone's The Quick and the Dead, Nicholas Cage's Gone in 60 Seconds, Steven Segal's Out For A Kill) and WWE super-stars.

What makes the view into her room most disturbing is not her posters or her magazines; it's her nudity, sex, and intravenous drug use. The sex usually only involves her boyfriend, who everyone calls, El Diablo, but occasionally involves some random guy or girl she has picked up at a bar.

I believe all that would be enough to make the average folk a little uncomfortable. I think I could handle all that, if that was the end of it. Sure, the view into her room can put the damper on T.V. watching, but I can always find something else to do somewhere else. The most disturbing aspect about Marci is: She is a devout and preachy Republican. I once shared a story which clearly labeled me "pro-abortion" and ever since she has been e-mailing me random photos of new born babies. She often will walk by me and quote uber-conservative republican rhetoric instead of a traditional greeting. Where the common person might say, "Hello" or "Good-bye," Marci will say, "Guns don't kill people. People kill people" or "If God didn't believe in the death penalty, how could he let his son be executed by the Romans?" I don't know how to respond to these sound-bites. I still suspect there might be some hidden cameras somewhere and I am part of one of those "clever" reality shows, so I do my best not to get baited into debating her crazy.

Our most recent conversation/ exchange: I was alone in the kitchen preparing food when Marci walked in wearing her transparent night-shirt. She peaked around my elbow at the stove and said, "I am only eating Asian food from now on." I nodded and she began to pick and sample some of my ingredients on the counter.

"Are you making enough for me?"
"It isn't Asian food" I said.
"But you just found out I am only eating Asian food" she said.
"So were you making enough for me?" she asked.
"There is plenty if you want some" I said.
"What's in it?" she asked, even though she can see all the ingredients.
I listed them anyway.
"You know eggs are chicken abortions" she said.
"More like menstruations" I said.
"It smells great, but that doesn't sound very Asian" she said.

She flicked the back of my ear before snatching a bottle tomato juice out of the refrigerator and walking out of the kitchen.

At this time, the state would like to rest its case. But we would be happy to open the floor to any questions the Jury may have.


Roger Roxx is a contributing writer to No-Fi ""Magazine"
and likes his roommates strange but sane.