By A.J. Hughes
Contributing Writer

As a junior at Kutztown University who has lived in on-campus suites for the past three years, I have gone through many roommates. So many, in fact, that I can barely count the number on two hands.

My freshman year alone I went through five roommates. Two of which lived in my room, while the other three lived in the room connected to my suite.

I had no problems with my first roommate for the beginning few weeks. She would often convince me to go out with her and I truly believe that she helped me come out of my shell.

Eventually, I found out that my roommate was engaging in sexual activity with some of the men on campus, including our neighbor. She wrote a list of all of her “bodies” and would show it to me regularly. She even had a handful of men stay the night over the course of the first few weeks. It didn’t bother me until she told me that they were having sex in the room while I was asleep.

After mentally scarring me with that image, she moved out of the room because she thought one of the men in the building was stalking her. By the end of the first semester, she had dropped out completely.

I didn’t have a roommate for the few short weeks before winter break, but I did still have suitemates—one of which tended to leave dirty tissues on the floor and not shower for a week at a time. She was, by far, the messiest person I had ever met, and I was grateful that I didn’t share a room with her. Her roommate contemplated moving into my room because the smell was so disgusting.

She also dropped out by the end of the first semester and her roommate ended up transferring schools after the first year.

My sophomore year was only slightly better. Since my suitemates’ friend wasn’t very fond of her living situation, she often slept in our suite. I was living with four other people in a space that could barely fit all of us.

That was hard enough, but towards the end of the first semester, everyone in the suite started having problems with one of our suitemates. There weren’t many fighting matches, but it was emotionally and mentally exhausting living in an area where the tension was so thick you couldn’t cut it with a butcher knife.

During finals week, there was a fight between the problematic suitemate and her friend who was living on her floor. The fight was so loud that I could hardly focus on studying for my tests. My suitemate ended up moving out before finals week was over. I couldn’t have been happier to go home that summer.

Even this year, I had problems with a suitemate who let her boyfriend live with her illegally. They would often party in her room and would come in at strange hours of the night. She ended up moving out after Thanksgiving break. She’s my neighbor now.

Ultimately, my first three years of college weren’t the best when you look at them in terms of roommates. If you want my advice, listen to your dad the first time when he tells you that rooming with randoms is a bad idea.