Word: roomed
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...thing, Mike informed me that, if I chose to move in, I was going to be sharing a room with him. While less than desirable, this is not quite as sketchy as it sounds. For several years, the Bayswater flat had been populated by an ever-changing stream of American and Canadian students working in London. Inexplicably, the pool of students who chose to spend their free time by earning pounds rather than dollars was overwhelmingly female. Thus, in all the flat's known history, Mike had been its only male resident. It was a two-bedroom flat, with...
...bunk bed, I think, that did me in. As much as I may have learned from sharing a kitchen and living room with people I didn't know, there were some lessons I simply did not care to learn. Though I had managed to avoid Mike's room, I finally decided that a fulfilling summer experience did not require mastery of the art of falling asleep while the bed shakes back and forth. It may be fine for summer-camp or the first year of college, but I've already served my time in the bunk...
Around the time when I could stand the bed-shaking no more, word-of-mouth got around to my ears, and I discovered that a single room (with a double bed!) had opened up in a clean and cozy flat. Once again, I packed up my bags. This time, however, I did not move in with strangers. I moved in with two Harvard students, who, like me, are spending their summers at career-related internships...
...HUPD responded to a report that a half-naked man was bathing in a men's room sink in Moors Hall. When officers arrived, the man was identified as an employee. No report was taken...
...locker room of the club, one might just run into another remnant from that same period of antiquity in the news business. Furry, flabby and foul-mouthed, a dislocated Brit turned foreign correspondent tells an intern about reporting, as he knows it. "Thay're in jayill naow, the fahks." For the old hack, possessed of a cockney so thick it sounds Australian and a mouth as foul as Sammy Sosa's late swing, the march of history is not poignant--it is a hard blow to the gut. He speaks of the former owners of United Press International, scoundrels whose...