sighcology

on the surface, it looks like we’re just having a conversation but the expressions on his face show he’s actually trying to compare himself to me. he began by asking me a simple question:

“what’s your -ology?”

i’ve never heard of that type of question so he explained it more:

“you know, like philosophy? psychology? biology? that kind of thing”

i lied and said philosophy and he saw right through me. little did i know i was talking to the guy who quite literally has a giant plato book on our shared living room table and actively talks about how much he loves plato. granted, i should have seen this coming, given the fact his bumble profile said that he was looking for a woman he could “have intelligent conversations about plato and other philosophical concepts” and told me that normal women bore him when they talk about shoes.

“so you don’t really know plato?”

i mentioned that i knew a little plato, from what i’ve heard from my college classes, but i’m not really a plato kind of guy.

“not that i think plato is boring, i just never had the opportunity to really read into it”

(complete lie, fucking hate philosophy)

i then said i like psychology.

“so nature vs nurture?”

for some reason, my mind drew an immediate blank. this is one of those times where a smart person gives me a word that for some reason my internal britannica fails to look up. i knew the word nuture, i knew it. i could spell it. i could use it in a sentence! but in that moment, my brain immediately shut off trying to understand it.

we talked it out and eventually landed on the conclusion i was on the nature side, but we would continuously have these talks over and over.

each and every time we spoke he felt as if he had to test whether or not i was actually intelligent, as he didn’t believe that i was.

a few months later we hung out with his little brother at a steakhouse for his 18th birthday (21st if you asked why he had a cocktail) and my roommate casually said “well, at least i’m not a dick when i drink” to which i started laughing.

“Anthony.”

i gave him a look in his eye as i figured he knew exactly what i was talking about. i remembered that night clearly and we even spoke about how he remembered everything up until the end of the night.

“you’re fucking with me. you’re fucking with me. you’re obviously fucking with me.” (to his brother) “he’s fucking with me.”

“i’m not fucking with you, [redacted]. you were a complete dick to me when we were last here.”

“Anthony. you’re fucking with me.”

“ask [redacted] why he split us up.”

at that moment my roommate realized that i wasn’t actually “fucking with him”, but i was telling the truth.

“anthony im so sorry i don’t remember this..what did i say?”

~ oOoOoOoo flashback time ~

it was the first time we went to the steakhouse simply because my other roommate was the manager at this top steakhouse. it was at the heart of time square and i circled around the block about 10 times since i was here an hour early and i was terrified walking into the restaurant alone. i told my roommate to text me when he’s near so i can walk in with him. anyways, i walked in to find my roommate and everyone already there 5 minutes past the reservation time.

it was us, a guy from the apartment complex, and his coworker. of course as usual, i fuck up the handshakes, but honestly who cares? i’m here for the steak, not the socializing.

we go through the night relatively normal and i mostly try my best to fit in — which i’ll be honest is extremely hard when you’re sober. having no idea what to order for a drink was terrifying when the entire table started laughing and my roommate gave me a look. it was terrifying being the only one with the card up to green because in reality, this was not the dinner i expected to have.

and look. i’ll be honest.

if you give me unlimited steak, i’m gonna fuck up some unlimited steak. no question. end of sentence. i will eat, no crumbs, empty plate. i’m getting my money’s worth and i don't give a shit. i am a different person at a steak buffet and i’m not ashamed of it.

but clearly, that wasn’t the real vibe of the steak dinner and i just sat there watching from the sidelines. as one of the greatest philosophers in recorded history once said, “she’s cheer captain and i’m on the bleachers”.

clearly, everyone was here to network, at least that’s what the vibe i was getting from the guy from our apartment complex. my roommate will never see it (bless his heart) but he’s obviously working my other roommate. spoiler alert, but by the end of the night he convinces my obviously intoxicated roommate to drive him an hour to his parents house in the morning (?) and to give him the top CEOs in his contacts so he can reach out to them for contracts at work. while that happened, i ate steak.

the night went on and more and more i felt like i didn’t belong there. the coworker was talking about his new business that he was starting about art (i don’t fucking understand art people for the life of me. what the fuck is a business for art? you just make it?!) and the creative studio he was renting out for his digital art (again!!? what!!!) and music space. my roommate can relate to this, as he frequently brings up a healthcare startup he started and sold off during a poker tournament (i haven’t been able to verify this for the life of me, unless he’s secretly the 33 year old CEO of [health startup], since that’s what his ‘app’ is a web wrapper of). the guy from my apartment complex talks about how he has top clients at his tech recruiting jobs and all the crazy stories about the Korn Ferry and Prudential clients he constantly hangs out with-

and then there’s me.

i don’t really have much to add, quite literally ever, but in this scenario i had even less. here they were talking about doing coke with their bosses, going on all-expenses paid vacations paid by their companies, tripping on DMT, and listening to Joe Rogan — and i uh, installed a firewall the other day and got kicked out of a taco bell for staying too long. i haven’t really had exciting things happen in my life to talk about. i skipped out on that part of my life, and in reality, this is the exciting part — but that’s not something i’m supposed to admit.

the night goes on pretty okay and my roommate just continuously drinks as much as he can. to be fair, they’re not carding him here and it’s an open bar for us, so it’s not like i can say anything. after they begin talking about how “Andrew Tate is right about what he says and he shouldn’t be canceled for it. We have the same ideas!”, i pull out my instagram and scroll through it in front of them. at this point, the coworker left and the guy from my apartment complex went to the restroom. it was just me and my roommate.

immediately my roommate calls me out about being on instagram and i make a joke about how im just so addicted to it hahaha and just don’t really give a shit. i text my roommate/manager while immediately my roommate at the table circles back around to me.

“Anthony, you didn’t tag me in your story.”

i laugh it off and tell him it’s just a piece of steak. he’s not in the photo at all, not even his arm. it’s fully a steak on a plate.

“I’m the reason you’re here. I’m the reason you even have a social life and you’re not even greatful for it. You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me.”

i didn’t really know how to respond, but it’s not like this seemed out of character for my roommate. if there’s one thing i know about him is that he wants all the attention on him for being the coolest person in the room. i get that i’m a charity case for him, but again, i’m here to fuck up some steak. and honestly, we were both invited by our roommate.

i laugh it off and just say

“you know i did social media professionally for a few years. i think i know how to use instagram, and besides, you weren’t actually in the photo. it was just steak.”

“If that’s how you do social media, you were obviously bad at your job. You can’t even do that right.”

i don’t really say anything at this point and he got more standoff-ish. i figured this was coming from my roommate someday. every time we spoke it always felt like he was trying to see if i was actually intelligent.

“How’d you even get your job anyways? There’s no way you’re smart enough to get a job like that. I’ve seen how you are. There’s no way dude. I don’t understand. How does someone like you get a job like that? How did you do that? I don’t understand.”

at this point, i just didn’t say anything other than

“i think i’m good at my job”

he rolls his eyes and he starts laughing at me and begins mocking me

“i tHinK i’M GoOd aT mY jOb. yeah whatever dude. there’s no way you’re actually good at it.”

i just don’t say anything and he just keeps smiling at me waiting for my answer. it’s almost like he wants me to keep talking so he could just mock me. he does this thing (and he does this sober and often) where he taunts you into giving a response until you say something.

“You know what. Let’s do this. Let’s do a mock interview. Pretend I’m an interviewer:

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?”

at this point i started getting upset. why do i have to explain why i deserve my job to this fucking twink.

“Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

Of fucking course you can’t answer a simple question like this. Again, there’s no way you’re smart enough to have your job. You can't even answer a simple question, you’re not going to make it out here. You actually have to be smart and you’re not.”

again, i don’t really have to answer him, but he’s being incredibly annoying and i’m not really about to cause a scene in a restaurant where my other roommate is the manager.

“i don’t really get the question dude. where do i see myself progressing at my job in 5 years? where do i see myself professionally in 5 years? where do i what? i don’t even care enough to answer your question. why are we even doing this?”

“wHy aRe wE eVeN dOIng tHis? dude it’s a simple fucking question and obviously you’re not smart enough to answer this. it’s exactly what you think it is. if you can’t answer this question, there’s no way you’re smart enough to even do anything in IT if i’m being honest. it's so fucking easy !!!!

so answer the question:

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

It’s a simple fucking question, but I’m also not surprised you can’t answer such a basic question.”

“i’m not doing this.”

“Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?”

at this point, that guy from the apartment complex comes back and sees what’s going on. i’m visibly upset and i tell the apartment complex guy this and that i’m just over dealing with my roommate.

“maybe anthony is right. this is obviously not the best conversation to have right now, maybe lets pin this for later?”

“You’re a tech recruiter, right? Why don’t you interview Anthony? I just want to know more about his job.”

for some reason (i’m assuming to kiss up to my roommate to use him later), the tech recruiter goes along with this.

“tell me about a challenging time at work”

i answer the question honestly. i answer all of his questions honestly and he seemed to agree that i’m probably decent at my job.

my roommate didn’t buy it. he swore i’m bad at my job and he just knows it.

we ended the night by going back to the apartment and i pass out on the couch.

since then he’s been asking me to play shot glass chess because “it’s an intelligence game” and leaves a plato book around the apartment to remind me that he finds himself smarter than me. he does everything he can to either impress me or make me feel worse about myself.

all i know is that i should be idolizing my roommate and aspire to be like him. i should inspire to being a complete asshole, that’s what a true techbro in new york is like.

i try to see the good in him, i swear i do.