I live in a small Boston brownstone in a nice neighborhood. I love the convenience and trendiness but size is always an issue. How did this all start? My roommate of two years just got engaged and moved out with only a couple weeks’ notice. Yeah – like that will last. Just because we are thirty something doesn’t mean we have to settle for someone who isn’t exactly what we want, anyway that led me to my new roommate search before I landed on my butt on the street. I got a few responses to my roommate ad and I plan to meet them at a coffee shop down the street to screen them after my phone interview. The first few I spoke to were a train wreck, a Goth girl who couldn’t hold down a job and then a creepy older guy who seemed more interested in stalking me than being my roommate; just my luck. I have one more to go this afternoon. At least on the phone he sounded promising. I walked a few blocks to the coffee house, Java Hut; I wanted to get in a good spot before this guy Jake arrived. About fifteen minutes later, this really tall guy walks in. Seriously he had to be at least 6’ 4”. I try to look casual and not drool as he whisks his hand through his just rolled out of bed thick brown hair. It was shorter than I usually like it but there would certainly be more than enough to run my fingers through it and pull him to me. His ice blue eyes were piercing with a defiant sparkle and his lean muscular body was clear even hidden under his jeans and t-shirt. Then I get WET as he walks over to see me. Clearly this was Jake I had worn the t-shirt I described to him. The way he walked to me with confident grace I may not even charge him to live with me, it would be worth it just to look at him every day. I introduce myself and he confirmed that he was in fact Jake.
