Love Letters: Russ Hates His Roommate
One in a series of old Love Letters that I bought at the flea market and am now transcribing for my nosey friends.
Nobody panic, but this is the last letter before Homecoming.
October 4, 1960
Dearest Karen,
Actually, it’s October 5, but we won’t dwell upon that. My roommate is studying. He keeps the oddest hours and besides that is lazy. You are fortunate. You do not have a roommate. One of these fine semesters I too will dispense with my room-mate.
Ooh, I know how this ends.
That is, if I talk some sense into this one so that there be no future room-mates to dispense with. I really don’t care how he spends his time as long as he spends the late evening and early morning hours out of the room if he doesn’t want to sleep. I’m actually not too hard to please. I just seem to pick night owls. But this guy is going to learn the spirit of co-operation one way or another.
Russ isn't hard to please. He’d just like to go to bed early in a college dorm.
Anyway, tonight I can’t complain too much tonight because I wanted to write to you which takes precedence, but he does it other nights and that is what I’m really complaining about. He doesn’t seem to one way or the other. Oh, the joys of college living! Blah!
Russ is pushing 80 these days, but he got a real head start on the crotchety old dude schtick, no?
Enough griping about my room-mate. I hope I hear from somebody soon regarding when you’re coming down. The suspense is killing me, but you can’t rush the U.S. mail or time. My parents are supposed to let me know. Pretty soon I’m going to convince myself that you’ll be here Friday and then I’ll be disappointed if you don’t come. The only thing that has prevented me from doing so until now is Beverly’s
unfavorablerelaying of unfavorable reactions from you. Nevertheless I will beslight disdisappointed to the extent it would have been nice. The arrangements were not set for Friday and consequently I cannot feel cheated. I’ve received no promises for Friday, either — just a faint hope.Today was my easy day, three classes, one of which was called off. It was only PE anyway. ROTC is nothing. The lecturer I’ve got even makes it enjoyable. He’s really good. Last semester, the guy was about as dull as a ROTC instructor could be. Like, for example, this letter.
Nice save, Russ.
But you can read it in the morning instead of cereal box labels and it will provide early morning occupation without requiring the great deal of thoughts so impossible to find in the morning — at least for me anyway. The only hitch is that it might put you back to sleep. That would never do. Better just use it for scrap or for wrapping the garbage.
[End of page and he numbers each page and the margin note says:] I can’t even get the page numbers right.
The bonded surface makes it good for that because it doesn’t soak up moisture and fall apart or leave its permeating aroma roam wild
andfand free.[Russ makes a note about the strikethrough text above:] This is a combination of an “d” and an “f” and you can’t hardly get them kind anymore.
Maybe if I wrote smaller I would make fewer mistakes. Don’t know why — just grasping at straws, but the possibility does exist. However, that might kill your incentive to read my letters and I cannot afford to do that. Someone has to read the “fruits of my labor.”
Listen if that chemistry problem didn’t kill her desire to read these, I’m not sure what will. Speaking of, what the hell am I doing with my free time?
When the sentences stop making any sense whatsoever or when odd words creep in where they don’t belong, then you know I am falling asleep and/or have “cracked-up” in every sense of the word. I do everything backwards. Can’t fall asleep when I want to. Sleep too late when I shouldn’t or don’t need to. Fall asleep when I should and sometimes must stay awake.
But now I’d better sign off, and give up a lost cause, i.e. writing an interesting letter. Sweet dreams, sweetheart. See you Saturday (or Friday, I hope) so take care of yourself and don’t study too hard. Auf Wiederschauen, bis morgen.
Love as ever,
Russ
Next up: WHAT HAPPENED AT HOMECOMING?