Ask Doctor Druce
Some days it's clear that the roommate has learnt nothing from a year with the Druce. Evan watches his roommate, staring blankly at his computer, clicking on the same soccer site with a blank stare on his face, and Evan knows - his roommate has that wasting sickness. Evan knows from experience that pining is one of the least enjoyable activities in the world, but try as he might, he can never quite seem to get his roommate to buy that idea. Instead, he has to watch while his roommate waits for the least of signals; an email, a message, a phone call. Evan feels sorry for the stupid boy, but the wasting illness is often fatal, and Evan doubts as to whether his roommate will survive.
Evan himself will attest to having fallen victim, from time to time, of the wasting illness, but the Druce abides. A couple frat parties, a bit of alcohol and some heavy grinding always seemed the right medication for any of Evan's worse symptoms. The roommate, however, with his strange disdain for the fraternities and their drunken, Dionysian parties does not have the same recourse. Instead, he is doomed to bouts of melancholy as he languishes, thinking about the same girl every night, speaking of her incessantly, playing sappy love songs and writing lengthy, rambling entries on his blog.
The Druce knows his roommate is, at heart, a good kid. Sometimes when the Druce is getting mad action at frat parties, he thinks of his roommate, back in their room, doubtless inebriated in his misery, and feels a little twitch of sympathy. Evan's sure everything will turn out right in the end, however. After all, no roommate of Evan Druce, sex machine, could possibly be left languishing in the doldrums of inaction for long.
Some days it's clear that the roommate has learnt nothing from a year with the Druce. Evan watches his roommate, staring blankly at his computer, clicking on the same soccer site with a blank stare on his face, and Evan knows - his roommate has that wasting sickness. Evan knows from experience that pining is one of the least enjoyable activities in the world, but try as he might, he can never quite seem to get his roommate to buy that idea. Instead, he has to watch while his roommate waits for the least of signals; an email, a message, a phone call. Evan feels sorry for the stupid boy, but the wasting illness is often fatal, and Evan doubts as to whether his roommate will survive.
Evan himself will attest to having fallen victim, from time to time, of the wasting illness, but the Druce abides. A couple frat parties, a bit of alcohol and some heavy grinding always seemed the right medication for any of Evan's worse symptoms. The roommate, however, with his strange disdain for the fraternities and their drunken, Dionysian parties does not have the same recourse. Instead, he is doomed to bouts of melancholy as he languishes, thinking about the same girl every night, speaking of her incessantly, playing sappy love songs and writing lengthy, rambling entries on his blog.
The Druce knows his roommate is, at heart, a good kid. Sometimes when the Druce is getting mad action at frat parties, he thinks of his roommate, back in their room, doubtless inebriated in his misery, and feels a little twitch of sympathy. Evan's sure everything will turn out right in the end, however. After all, no roommate of Evan Druce, sex machine, could possibly be left languishing in the doldrums of inaction for long.
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