Category Archives: Story

The Turning Point

There’s a moment we keep going back to, reflecting on how truly fucked up our relationship with Soggy was.

The particular incident in question happened early this year.

Yogurt and I wanted to go out for dinner mainly because there was no rice at home and anything we wanted to make that night would’ve required rice as a side.

As a bit of background, when we’d first started living together, potatoes were a staple side to our meals as a carb but as time went on, we shifted more towards rice (which was natural for me, because I come from a household that eats rice everyday, if not for every meal).

So, as the kind roommates we were, we invited Soggy to come out with us and he reacted by opening the fridge and exclaiming, “We have so much food at home!”

To which I responded, “No, but we don’t have rice.”

“So? We have potatoes!” he said, clearly exasperated at the fact that I didn’t want to eat at home because there was no rice.

As a last ditch attempt at trying to get him to understand where I was coming from, I said, “We don’t have any rice at home and I want to eat rice for dinner because I’m Asian.”

And how did the soggy one respond, you ask?

“Well, I’m not Asian but I eat rice every night!”

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You ate rice every night because we cooked for you every night. And you can’t even find it in yourself to respect or understand the fact that I didn’t want to cook that night because there wasn’t any rice left. Not to even mention the fact that your answer was a complete non-sequitur in response to what I was trying to argue.

I didn’t realize it then because in that moment, I was just caught up in the fact that I was starting to feel bad for even wanting to go out in the first place since Soggy started saying how we were all going out a lot and spending a lot of money – even though a part of me was thinking, You don’t have to go, we aren’t forcing you.

I felt so bad, though, that I tried for a compromise (which was a mistake, but this was before I truly understood how much Soggy was actually using me for food), trying to say, “Okay, maybe we can make something with the potatoes…” (because Soggy was so caught up on the fact that we had potatoes)

Even though, really, what I should have done was just walked out the door with Yogurt because fuck you for making me feel bad for not wanting to cook for your ass. It wasn’t even your money we were going to spend on food for us. It wasn’t your time. You were making us stay at home because you couldn’t feed yourself without us.

And that was the really fucked up part – that we stayed home that night to cook for you and that you made me stay at home out of guilt because you needed us to cook for you.

I cooked curry that night, while he sat in his room and did his work, contributing nothing to the meal, as usual, but an empty stomach.

But, of course, he did say, at the end, “Thanks, girls. It was good.”

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