Beige Food and Brian M.

When I filled out my roommate preferences before my parents dropped me off in New York City at the Parsons dorm, I had some very strong preferences. The biggest of these was that I did not want to room with anyone that smoked. I also wanted to room with art students because even though I enrolled in the Design Marketing program, I really wanted to be in one of the art programs. I don't know if I just didn't have the confidence to try to enroll or if I just figured that the business classes would be a safer route. So, yes, it's true- I went to art school for business classes. I still got to take many of the design classes, though, but I always knew that my career would end up being something in the fashion retail spectrum. The unfortunate thing is that after a few months at college, we all began to smoke. Including me.

My three roommates were Ritchie and two Brians. Brian C actually shared my bedroom and he became one of my best friends at school. Ritchie and the other Brian- Brian M., shared the other room. We all shared the mini-kitchen and bathroom right outside of our doors. Having been to other dorm rooms and since lived in a few Manhattan apartments, I realize now that this dorm was actually one of the nicer ones out there.

After being at school for a few months, there was a big circle of friends that would often hang out in our room and it seemed like there was never a moment to myself. We always cooked in the kitchen- usually things we picked up at the corner grocery, Gristede's. I ate a lot of boxed foods like macaroni and cheese, ramen noodles, and maybe some sandwiches. Rarely did I have money to eat out, but I did make a splurge from time to time. More often than not, my splurge was my daily trip to the street vendor for a bagel with cream cheese and hot chocolate. Bagels from NY street vendors come with the best rectangular slab of delicious cream cheese. At the time, they were only 75 cents or a dollar, I think and I could afford to get the hot chocolate and the bagel for under two bucks. This would last me through our four-hour Life Drawing class believe it or not- I took tiny sips and left it on my desk during our smoke breaks to be sure it lasted me the entire time.

Sometimes my Mom would send me care packages- usually canned goods or more boxes of mac n cheese, cup o' noodles, and my favorite, Nutty Bars. I remember thinking that my Mom probably spent more money shipping this stuff than she did on the actual food. It was nice though because she would include little cards from my sisters, some pictures and any mail that came to my parents house. Sometimes she would throw in a magazine for me and it just felt comforting to know that she was there. Her care packages usually showed up at the exact moment that I ran out of money and feared not eating for a few days.

Inevitably, I would go to use my little kitchenette to find it to be a disaster. The stove would be covered in a greasy film, along with everything nearby: the toaster, the refrigerator, the coffeepot, and the cabinets. Everything- covered in oil. Brian M. was constantly in the kitchen and usually frying potatoes. He would fry potatoes in the wee hours of the morning, again for lunch and often for dinner. He would usually hang out in his room and never seemed to have friends over. In retrospect, I imagine that it was probably difficult for him to room with three other guys, all gay, when he was straight. He was a photography major and he was rather easy going, but still, it must not have been the best time of his life. A typical photographer, he had a long, greasy ponytail and seemed to have a uniform of long sleeve, dark gray shirts and denim.

One time, Brian M. was sitting at the kitchen table eating toast and fried potatoes. Brian C. sat down right beside him and said, "Brian, why are you always frying potatoes?" in his southern accent, reminiscent of Julia Sugarbaker. He answered, "I like potatoes. I like toast. In fact, I really only prefer foods that are beige." Brian said, "Really. Beige. You only eat beige food." He said, "Yes, I don't eat anything that has a color." Brian replied, "Interesting."

Brian C. ran into the bedroom with me, closed the door, jumped on the bed and we exploded with hysterical laughter for about a half hour before calling everyone we knew to tell them that the other Brian ONLY eats beige food. Soon this became well-known with our friends and they used to drop by and see Brian frying up his potatoes. Sometimes they would refrain from laughing long enough to ask him all about his food habits. Eventually he would get to the part where he would confirm that yes, he only eats beige food. Lots of times though, they would walk in, see him eating beige food, and run directly into our bedroom to start laughing.