Questions for Madame X and The Mystery Cat

Here are a series of questions and conversations I would ask and have with my roommate, Madame X, if I ever had the chance to meet her:

1. Why do you hide from me?

2. What is your deal with orange soda? Do you quench your thirst with anything besides carbonated beverages? I once had a blockage in my bile duct that had to be corrected with a tiny incision using a microscopic blade that was sent down my throat. This blockage was caused by drinking too many Slurpees, specifically from the over-consumption of carbonated beverages. It was a frightening experience and a painful recovery. The moral here: slow down on the fucking soda.

3. Are you using my razor in the shower? Sometimes I feel it has moved. Should I hide it in my room to prevent you from using it the way I already hide my toothbrush from you? The way you already hide from me?

4. Do you blog about me, too?

5. Are you this person?:

Here are a series of questions and conversations I have with Mystery Cat who lives with Madame X and I:

1. How come you think you have a right to everything I eat? You’re like the Bizarro World version of Madame X: she eats nothing and you want it all. Also, you are always wet around the face. Talk to your owner, whoever she is, and tell her to stop feeding you gravy-based food. You have too much fur around your face to be face down in a bowl full of gravy. You have more hair coming out of your ears than my 87-year-old grandfather. You need dry kibble. DRY. Also, you smell like pee-pee. I am trying to like you but you really stink.

2. Stop eating my plants.

3. I think it is cute that you are now answering to the name Kushka. I have officially trained you to learn a new name. I know it isn’t so much my doing as it is the fact that since your owner is never around you are never addressed by your actual name but I am still proud of myself. Your name is Kushka. You know it and I know it.

4. I do like you. And I am grateful you are around. We are both very alone right now and it’s good that we have each other. Do you have any idea what the roommate looks like? Yeah, neither do I.

Spy vs. Spy

I have audible confirmation that my roommate is hiding from me. She is HIDING from me. My ears have sent messages to my brain verifying this information.

We are now roughly 20 days in on a shared living space. And I have not seen the girl who shares my domicile. Not now, not never.

The day before yesterday I was going out to meet a friend for lunch. I took a shower and got ready for my afternoon, all the while with my roommate (with a social issue, apparently) in her bedroom. When I went outside I realized it was raining so I turned around to go back in my apartment to get my umbrella. I put my key in the door and when I opened it, I heard the sound of frantic feet running down the hall and then the slam of a door.

If you have not figured it out by now, that was my roommate. She was RUNNING AWAY FROM ME.

Why? Why would a person run and hide from another person they are living with? Isn’t she curious to know what I look like? Isn’t she wondering who I am? Do I really give off an energy that would make a person run away from me and hide? And if I do, which I’d like to think I don’t, how would she even know this since we have never met??

Yesterday I was walked home by a friend after brunch. While we were outside saying our goodbyes, a lovely young lady walked up the stoop steps carrying bags of laundry. I turned to my friend and said “Oh! Maybe that’s my roommate!” We were both kind of excited at the prospect. She seemed very nice. And she was very cute. My friend and I sped up our “adios, amigos” so I could investigate further.

When I went up to my apartment I found that Cute Laundry Girl was not my roommate because she was going up several more flights of stairs than my apartment. Also as confirmation that Cute Laundry Girl was not my roommate, when I entered my apartment there was no one running away. The only one there was the bitter, bi-polar cat that has taken residence in my shared living space with Madame X. I use the term shared loosely, of course. “Sharing” is when two people kindly maintain something together for use. I am “sharing”. My roommate is “living in a common space with fear”.

Does she have social anxiety? I want to tell her that it’s okay because I do, too. Is she deformed and shy about it? I want to show her my left hand where I chopped off two fingertips and had to have them re-attached to show her I am also maimed, if that is the case. Is she a Thoraco-omphalopagus? Is she on the run from the law because she is a thief? Is she this person?:

Am I living with Carmen Sandiego? Because holy fucking shit and stop the presses: it is quite possible that I have found her. Where in the world is she may be a question that need not be asked anymore because Carmen Sandiego may very well be living in my apartment with me and a bitchy cat.

It looks like I will achieve my goal of making it to Thanksgiving without meeting my roommate. Part of me thinks it’s fun and the other part is sad. Fun because it is completely bizarre that I am living with someone I have never seen. And sad because if it IS Carmen Sandiego that I am living with, Jennifer Lopez will have no reason to make the Carmen Sandiego movie and we all will get stuck with a movie Gigli II, Electric Boogaloo or some other wackass shit from J-Lo.

Sorry, everyone.

“Welcome to the Church of the Holy Cabbage. Lettuce pray.”

Day 14. No contact via text since the discovery of the cat. No face to face contact… since ever. The saga continues.

A couple of posts ago I remarked how my roommate (who I have never seen, met, been given a sketch drawing of) did not keep food in the house. I had noted some high-end toiletries, makeup and shoes but no food. Basically the refrigerator looked like this:

Actually, that’s an exaggeration. When I moved in there was a half-empty 2-liter bottle of orange soda in the fridge. Some may say the bottle was half-full. Indeed, I would say the bottle is half-full. But based on what I know of my roommate (which is basically nothing outside of the fact that she is a recluse, invisible or both) I am guessing that she would say that she only had half a bottle left of soda. She gives me a bit of a pessimistic vibe somehow. Amazing how things can translate from just a first impression: in this case being no impression since I have a better chance of winning the lottery than I do of picking her face out in a crowd of 2 people.

She gives me another vibe, as well. She gives me the “I am a stripper” vibe, not that there’s anything wrong with that. This is based not only on the lack of food in the kitchen but also due to the high-end shoes she leaves about the apartment. I also am making this assumption because she comes home at 5 in the morning in said shoes (this is an audible observation obviously). Also… the cat who is living in our apartment with us [that neither of us own, mind you ~ "house of strange", anyone?] suggested this might be so and I’ve been on his good side lately so I don’t think I should disagree.

Plus the idea that this is my roommate is pretty fun:

I should be so lucky!

At any rate, it was upsetting me that the person I am living with was not eating. I get my breakfast and larger meals during work and usually only make one or two small evening meals during the week but I wanted to show my roommate what the kitchen is used for. For all I know she has no idea what its purpose is. I stocked one side of the fridge with juices, yogurt, vegetables and other items to show her the purpose of the large white box in the room with the table and chairs in it. I wanted to let her know it was okay to bring perishable items into our shared living space because eating is good for you and if you can’t finish everything at once this large white box will keep things going for several days.

The next day I went to work and when I came home to an empty apartment – seriously, were you expecting anything else? – I checked the refrigerator and found that the other side, once holding nothing but orange soda, now had a few grocery items in it. Madame X saw my action and then followed up with an identical reaction! I was so thrilled that I was able to achieve this non-verbal communication. Is this how Jane Goodall felt when she had her first successful exchange with a chimpanzee? Is it possible that I am living with a chimpanzee?

I can’t say I don’t like the idea.

I go to work quite early on Monday so I may not see her for at least another day or two. Two weeks of this? Really? Will I ever meet my roommate?

Boris, is Moose you said you killed in previous episode?

It is now 11 days of living with someone I have never seen. How is this even possible? I seriously have no fucking idea what the person I am living with looks like, sounds like, dresses like, acts like or anything else with the word like. Seriously. I seriously have no idea. There are no photos of this person in the apartment. No traces of her existence outside of the large quantities of hair and body products in the bathroom and the sound of her heels in the middle of the night when she comes home. From this I have deduced that she is someone who likes to look and smell good and she is really into shoes.

So basically my roommate is this person:

I know it may seem outrageous that this person is my roommate but I cannot say this isn’t so. I have no evidence to say that Ru Paul is not the person who sleeps in the room next to me at night. Ru Paul does fit the profile. Look at that hair! The skin is FLAWLESS. And, although you cannot see it in this picture, I think we can all agree that there are definitely heels on his muthafuckin feet. He totally fits the profile. Except for one thing… I do not think Ru Paul is Russian and I am pretty certain my new roommate is of Russian descent.

It was suggested the following person is my roommate:

No… I said the one with nice hair, who smells good and loves a good shoe. Here, allow me to help you refine the one we are talking about.

This bitch. This fierce bitch right here. It’s very possible I am living with Natasha from the Rocky & Bullwinkle cartoons. She is definitely a night owl. She never goes anywhere in anything but stilettos and she doesn’t eat anything. (Have I mentioned my roommate keeps no food in the kitchen? Nary a cracker. I don’t know what she survives on). Natasha survives on ink. I will have to poke around for a stash of mechanical ink pens. If I find some I think we might be on to something here.

I highly doubt I will see my roommate tomorrow because of my schedule. Friday may be out, as well. This will push me to the 13 day mark. Almost two weeks of never seeing the person I live with. Crazy.

And for those keeping track., the cat is still there. He is still a prick sometimes but I think he is just taking his aggression out on me because there is no one else around to bear the brunt of his abandonment issues.

A Text Conversation Exactly As Written

Madame X: LOL

Madame X: But U shud tell me. I got scared.

Me: What?

Madame X: OMG I am so happy U have cat.

Me: What are you talking about? That isn’t my cat. I thought it was your cat.

Madame X: There is a beautiful cat in the apartament. I got scared LOL.

Me: Totally not mine. I do have a pet rhinosaurus – but I keep her on the terrace.

(several minutes pass)

Madame X: Ohhhh

Me: I’m kidding.

Madame X: Anyway cat is cute – I hope I met you in next year we have wrong schedul. I met cat before I met U. Crazy.

Me: I am glad you noticed that as well. It’s already been 8 days.

Madame X: It’s fine about cat. I love animals.

Me: Right - but it’s not my cat. I am trying tell you it isn’t mine.

Madame X: Cat is not yours?

Me: Cat is NOT mine.

Madame X: Maybe it is landlords cat?

Me: Yeah, maybe. (???)

Madame X: I like this cat.

Me: Me, too. Actually, I was glad to see the cat, as well.

Madame X:

…………………………………………………………………………………….

Based on this text conversation you may think that my roommate is a 12 year old who is texting from science class. I cannot dispute this as I have never seen her.

…………………………………………………………………………………….

I came home from work and was greeted only by the cat. No sign of Madame X. I am calling the cat Kushka as I need a way of identifying him, not that he gives a shit. I brought him some toys with catnip inside – he seemed to really appreciate them. He let me pet him for several minutes and then out of nowhere he jumped up, screamed “Back off, bitch!” and ran off with his toys. Cats.

It was pointed out by my co-workers that since neither of us know where the cat came from that I should make sure there was food, a litter box, etc somewhere in this “House of Strange”. Turns out he has a sweet little setup in the far corner of the apartment that no one seems to use. I would love to know when he showed up. Has he been here the whole time? This place is more mysterious by the day. But the rent and location is amazing so what can I do? New York.

………………………………………………………………………………………

It was suggested to me that the following individual may be Madame X, the roommate I have lived with for going on 10 days now without ever meeting.

Now that Kushka is in the picture, it would be very unsurprising that Madame X is also a cat, however I don’t think this apartment is big enough for two felines with aspriations of world domination and I think we can all agree that this cat looks much like someone who name sounds like Shitler.

Nope not room for two cats like that at all.

We are heading into the 10th day of co-habitation without face to face confrontation. I really am starting to think I can make it all the way to Thanksgiving without meeting my roommate.

What the hell have I gotten myself into???

The Pussy Joint

I went to bed last night without meeting my roommate (who will now be refered to as Madame X from this point forward.) 8 days and counting…

This morning I got up for work, made my bed and took a shower – yes I always make my bed immediately upon waking up, don’t you?

I took the most awesomest, hottest shower. Big plus on this new apartment: you could cook a lobster in the shower… the water BOILS! Plus I installed the Rolls Royce of shower-heads so the shower experience completely rocks. I wonder if my roommate likes it? I’ll have to add that to the list of questions I have for her when we finally meet.

Anyway, I got done with my shower and when I got back to my room I was greeted by this guy:

“Who the fuck are you?” I said.

“Who the fuck are YOU, bitch?” he hissed.

And with that, he rolled over, exposed his belly and made me pet him for a few minutes while he purred madly.

Once the ice was broken, I figured it was safe to ask him about Madame X.

“I ain’t seen that bitch! Whatchu asking me for? Why don’t you just mind yo damn bizness and just do your own thing! Damn!” And then he jumped off my bed and ran across the room.

“Hey, get off the windowsill please,” I said.

“Fuck you, bitch! This is MY joint!” he snarled.

And that was that. So I still haven’t met my roommate. But I learn a little more about her every day. Like the fact that she hangs out with some serious assholes.

I don’t think I will meet my roommate for at least two more days.I am working 14 hours tomorrow and then the same on Monday. There is a chance I could meet her Tuesday. We shall see…

1 Week

I found my Queens apartment, like many people do, on Craigslist. I rented through a lovely young woman who told me that she needed to rent out her room because she was moving in with her boyfriend.

I fell in love with the place on first sight. Besides being in an amazing location, the price was crazy-delicious and the size of the room for rent was massive and it came with full use of the living room so basically two rooms for one. I was told one other person, a female, would be living in the apartment in a private bedroom. The kitchen and bathroom would be shared. I gave a deposit immediately and was moved in within a week.

And I have now lived here a week. And for this whole week, I have never seen my new roommate. I know she is here – I have heard her in her room or coming in from wherever she works in the middle of the night. I know she is here – she has about 200 bottles of shampoo, lotions and sprays in the bathroom. I know she is here – every time I leave the apartment and return, there is something new in the apartment that wasn’t here before (light up hula-hoop, anyone?) so she is most definitely here. Somewhere.

I walk home from the subway and look at the people around me. Is that my roommate buying fruit? Is that my roommate at Starbucks reading a book? Is that my roommate that just bumped into me and didn’t say “excuse me”? I have no idea. And who bumps into someone without saying “excuse me “? Bitch betta recognize! Oh she can’t recognize – that’s the whole point. Okay, I’ll let it go this time.

Let’s take a break and watch this informative video I found on youtube:

 

That was fun, wasn’t it? I actually wouldn’t mind if my new roommate was a muppet. She may very well be a muppet. I have no idea. I have never seen her.

How long can I go without seeing her? It’s almost a challenge now. Can I make it to Thanksgiving? It’s only a couple of weeks away. I wonder if I can make it to 2012 without catching a glimpse of her. If I do, I kinda feel like I should get a prize. I would give her a prize, too, but I like gift giving in person and… well… we all see where this is going.

If anyone has any idea what my roommate might look like, please send photos to my email at katmurello@gmail.com – I will publish them here and debate the possibilities.