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Between the Sheets: Caught in the Act?

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Columbia Barnard Contributor Student Contributor, Columbia University & Barnard College
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Liana Gergely Student Contributor, Columbia University & Barnard College
This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Columbia Barnard chapter and does not reflect the views of Her Campus.

 HYPOTHETICAL SITUATION: You love your roommate. She’s the sweetest, she’s nice to look at and she lets you borrow her spoons when you don’t want to do dishes. She’s super into sharing. She’s very open. We’ll get back to that. Last Saturday you were chilling at 1020 (The skinny annoying dude was playing bouncer at Mel’s and wasn’t buying your Xeroxed passport as a legitimate form of ID). SO you meet a nice grad student, you chat for like almost 10 minutes in one of those questionably-stained booths, and then decide to head on out together. You’re having a grand old time back at your place – he didn’t even need help getting your bra off! And then, just when you’ve started to figure out how to deal with his super confusing fabric belt, you hear the sound of keys struggling to find the keyhole.

            There’s no time to dress yourself, and your blanket has fallen the 30 feet to the floor from your bed so you have no choice: hipster grad student from 1020 is gonna have to work as your human shield. Your roommate, Sally, stumbles into the room, flips on the switch, sees you and your new friend, andddddd seems completely unfazed. Which is unsettling. And problematic, seeing as you’re naked. So you’re lying there under your (surprisingly heavy for his slight frame) new friend and Sally is searching for her industrial-sized carton of gold fish. You and new friend are patient up to a certain degree, but when Sally powers on her laptop and starts to watch Orange is the New Black, new friend decides to step in. The exchange goes something like this:

            New friend: Uh, excuse me. Could you leave for like 10 minutes?

            Me: Or like 45 minutes to an hour? (I’m an optimist)

            Sally: OH. Oh my god are you guys like…..?

            New friend and I nod. Our heads bump. It would’ve hurt if not for that last Heineken.

            Sally: OhEmGee I am so sorry, I’ll go right now. You can totally have some of my goldfish!

           Twenty minutes later, you find Sally asleep on top of a drying machine in the laundry room (Evidently they are warm and soothing). You still can’t look at goldfish the same      way.