Option Three: THE CO-ED
Definition: A residence shared between yourself and a member of the opposite sex.
Cost of living: Moderate, in that while you are still splitting the costs of rent, water, and electricity with your female roommate, you will find that you will be paying for more than your share simply due to the nature of girls using more (or being more wasteful with) water and electricity.
Lifestyle description: Depends on the roommate.
Risk / Reward: Depends on the roommate.
Definition: A residence shared between yourself and a member of the opposite sex.
Cost of living: Moderate, in that while you are still splitting the costs of rent, water, and electricity with your female roommate, you will find that you will be paying for more than your share simply due to the nature of girls using more (or being more wasteful with) water and electricity.
Lifestyle description: Depends on the roommate.
Risk / Reward: Depends on the roommate.
In the Co-Ed living arrangement, the level of enjoyment and satisfaction you derive from the place you call home is utterly dependent on the girl you are living with and the relationship the two of you share. To showcase this, let’s consider two different roommate scenarios. And just to rule out any hotness factor, the girls (Ally and Bec) are identical twins and, as a rough estimate, rate as about a 6/10 (with makeup)*. In other words, were you to cross paths with either of them at the club, you’d gladly fool about and take them back to your place after a few drinks, but you wouldn’t blog about it or post the picture you took of them once they’d fallen asleep on Instagram with the hashtag: #LookWhoIJustBangedWithoutACondom (not that I’ve ever completed such an act or used such a hashtag).
*For those who are wondering, the reason I gave Ally and Bec a lukewarm rating of 6/10 and made them identical twins is for the simple fact that a guy will put up with a heck of a lot more from a size four hot chick who walks around the house while revealing a sizeable amount of side-boob, than he would a size twenty-four ugly chick, who... walks around the house while revealing a sizeable amount of side-boob... shudder. Call it human nature, science, or... superficial and shallow. But the truth is the truth.
*For those who are wondering, the reason I gave Ally and Bec a lukewarm rating of 6/10 and made them identical twins is for the simple fact that a guy will put up with a heck of a lot more from a size four hot chick who walks around the house while revealing a sizeable amount of side-boob, than he would a size twenty-four ugly chick, who... walks around the house while revealing a sizeable amount of side-boob... shudder. Call it human nature, science, or... superficial and shallow. But the truth is the truth.

Scenario A (Best case scenario): You’re living with Ally. The two of you have a great rapport and you consider her to be one of your closest friends. She is happy, considerate, and pleasant to be around. She doesn’t go into unpredictable mood swings when you leave the toilet seat up, and she doesn’t morph into a serial killer if you happen to be making noise in the kitchen while washing up both of your dinner plates as she binge watches early seasons of ‘One Tree Hill’. When it’s that time of the month, you don’t even know. She is mates with your mates. Neither of you have any problem with the sexual partners the other keeps and, in fact, she even plays the role as a superior wing-man, or, I guess... wing-woman, who is genuinely happy when you bring home a lady friend (to the point where she even high fives you the following morning when your ‘latest’ isn’t looking). She is someone who can, when asked (an important factor, hence the italics), give fashion and girlfriend advice that is in your best interest. In essence, she makes for a superior roommate who complements your life nicely.
Scenario B (Worst case scenario): You’re living with Bec. Having been spoiled and indulged her entire life, now that she is away from her parents who did everything for her, she expects chores to magically get done, all without her knowledge. She has never scrubbed a shower or cleaned a toilet bowl in her life, in which case, it won’t get done unless it’s your turn to clean and you do it - or, in the case it is her turn, you get so tired of her constant complaints about how messy it is (despite it being her foot-long lengths of hair that are blocking the sink and her month-old tampon and cotton balls that missed the bin and are sitting in the corner collecting dust) that you just do it yourself. She constantly leaves on lights (even when she’s not home) and uses the dryer instead of hanging her washing out on the line, both of which make your energy bill sky-rocket. She hates your friends and gets moody and kicks up a stink whenever they are over. And, oh yeah, the prospective girlfriends you invite over who you genuinely want to entertain, wine, and dine? She is snarky and bitchy directly to their faces so that they never want to return. She will sook and cry when things don’t go her way and expect you to listen to her issues, all the while forgetting that five minutes ago she was screaming at you in hysterics because you left the fridge door open while you poured yourself a glass of milk. On top of this, she is also someone who, twice a week, will make you seriously consider how hard it would be to smother someone with a throw pillow and then dispose of the body. In essence, she is a drain on your life and is someone you wouldn’t even pay five dollars for to have her returned in a ‘kidnapped-and-we’ll-kill-her-unless-you-pay-the-ransom’ situation.
Scenario B (Worst case scenario): You’re living with Bec. Having been spoiled and indulged her entire life, now that she is away from her parents who did everything for her, she expects chores to magically get done, all without her knowledge. She has never scrubbed a shower or cleaned a toilet bowl in her life, in which case, it won’t get done unless it’s your turn to clean and you do it - or, in the case it is her turn, you get so tired of her constant complaints about how messy it is (despite it being her foot-long lengths of hair that are blocking the sink and her month-old tampon and cotton balls that missed the bin and are sitting in the corner collecting dust) that you just do it yourself. She constantly leaves on lights (even when she’s not home) and uses the dryer instead of hanging her washing out on the line, both of which make your energy bill sky-rocket. She hates your friends and gets moody and kicks up a stink whenever they are over. And, oh yeah, the prospective girlfriends you invite over who you genuinely want to entertain, wine, and dine? She is snarky and bitchy directly to their faces so that they never want to return. She will sook and cry when things don’t go her way and expect you to listen to her issues, all the while forgetting that five minutes ago she was screaming at you in hysterics because you left the fridge door open while you poured yourself a glass of milk. On top of this, she is also someone who, twice a week, will make you seriously consider how hard it would be to smother someone with a throw pillow and then dispose of the body. In essence, she is a drain on your life and is someone you wouldn’t even pay five dollars for to have her returned in a ‘kidnapped-and-we’ll-kill-her-unless-you-pay-the-ransom’ situation.
Note: While Ally and Bec are both obvious extremes, you will find that the average female roommate will fall somewhere in between, yet gravitate towards one side or the other. Which side they gravitate to, however, is critical, in that it can either have you living the dream (Ally), or living the next five to ten years of your life in county jail (Bec) because you ‘accidently’ backed over her in your car as she was getting a tan on the driveway while listening to the latest Katy Perry album (which she had playing from the lounge room speakers on full volume so the music could reach her), never minding the fact that you were studying for your end of semester college exams, or had just gotten home and gone to bed after completing a night-shift at whatever poorly-paid job you do to make ends meet.
With these scenarios in mind and understanding the impact a female roommate can have on a bachelor’s life, should you choose to entertain or pursue the Co-Ed living arrangement, before making a final decision, there are a number of tips and warnings to be taken into consideration. After all, you don’t want to blindly lock yourself into a two-year lease, discover your roommate is more Courtney Love than Jennifer Love (Hewitt) and begin to understand what led Kurt Cobain towards tapping out (not that I’m saying his death had anything to do with Courtney Love, but, I mean... you saw her on the Comedy Central Roast of Pamela Anderson, right? And this was when she was admittedly not on coke).
With these scenarios in mind and understanding the impact a female roommate can have on a bachelor’s life, should you choose to entertain or pursue the Co-Ed living arrangement, before making a final decision, there are a number of tips and warnings to be taken into consideration. After all, you don’t want to blindly lock yourself into a two-year lease, discover your roommate is more Courtney Love than Jennifer Love (Hewitt) and begin to understand what led Kurt Cobain towards tapping out (not that I’m saying his death had anything to do with Courtney Love, but, I mean... you saw her on the Comedy Central Roast of Pamela Anderson, right? And this was when she was admittedly not on coke).
Tip: Get to know the real girl you are going to be living with. For instance, look beyond the girl you’ve partied with for years and only hung out with on social occasions. You’ve seen the cool, fun, mischievous, and flirty chick who, of a Friday night, seems like she would make a great roommate and complement to your life, but what is she like at ten the following morning when she is sleep-deprived and hungover? Is she the type who will suck it up, knock back a handful of aspirin, and get on with the day, or the type who will sook, bitch, moan, and camp out on the living room sofa with a blanket and ‘The O.C.’ complete series while telling you to be quiet (when you simply strolled by) because she has a headache. As for how you go about discovering this, it’s simple: ask her closest friends. They know her like no one else, and should you give them the opportunity, they will bitch and divulge all her dirty secrets and tell you everything you need to know, and more. As to why this is so? I have no idea, other than to say it is simply what chicks do. For instance: if you’ve got a group of five girls going out together for lunch but only four of them show up, you can sure as hell bet that the topic of conversation will be centred around the girl who’s not there. And sure, while they are still all BFF’s (girl-talk for ‘best friends forever’), give them the chance and they will throw one another under a moving cable car (as long as it doesn’t kill them) if it means they can get a better guy/job/grade or simply more alcohol poured into their martini by the ‘super hot, might-be-gay-but-might-NOT-be’ guy behind the bar.

Warning: A co-ed household has the potential to become a Girls’ House (which is just as it sounds: the exact opposite of a Boys’ House). As attractive as this may initially seem to the single bachelor who is intrigued by the fact that his house could be routinely overrun with girls (in his mind, he’s thinking of the Playboy Mansion), it is not what it is built up to be and is something you should strive to avoid. Now, before you label me as gay, queer, or one of the Backstreet Boys (although I think all of those descriptions pretty much mean the same thing), hear me out. Even though there will be more girls frequenting your place than you could have sex with in a good calendar year, you will be quick to learn that a group of girls having a night-in/sleepover-party is not what you’re envisaging. For starters, they are not wearing the appealing Victoria’s Secret, sexy, ‘more-exposed-skin-than-lace’ pyjamas where you picture them rolling around on the bed and engaging in an all-in pillow and tickle fight. I’m talking about full-length, baggy, winter pyjamas with the pant-legs tucked into giant socks that are pulled up to their knees. And while a Boys’ House night in would see a group of guys quietly sitting around the TV, drinking beers, and watching ‘Ace Ventura’ 1 and 2 back to back, the girls night in is far different - to the extent that within a half-hour of the first bottle of wine being cracked, they will have completely taken over the lounge room, kitchen, back deck, and hallway with the sounds of their wine drinking, jelly shot sucking, girlish giggling, and max-volume Taylor Swift CD playing, all of which is building towards the marathon ‘SingStar - High School Musical Edition’ performance that will go until three in the morning and keep the surrounding ZIP codes awake with high-pitched, annoying voices. Throw in the fact that none of the girls will be wearing makeup or will have made any effort whatsoever regarding their appearance (which can be a considerable shock to a guy who has never seen what not wearing makeup and not caring about looks can do to a girl), and one can see how this would be an unfavourable situation for the outnumbered bachelor.
(Sidenote: Having brought up ‘Ace Ventura’, allow me to say that despite the many years since ‘Ace Ventura 2: When Nature Calls’ graced the big screen, I am still holding out hope for an ‘Ace Ventura 3’. So, Jim Carrey, if you’re reading this [probably unlikely], don’t let us down. I mean, you did ‘Fun with Dick and Jane’, ‘I Love You Phillip Morris’, and ‘Mr Popper’s Penguins’ [the latter two of which I hadn’t even heard of until I opened his Wikipedia page to see what movies he has done recently]; surely it’s time to bring back Ace Ventura, Pet Detective. Wait, what? You’ll do it for me and all your loyal fans? Alllllrightyyy then!)
(Post Edit Note: My friend, Cal, who proofread this chapter, made the following note relating to my plea for an ‘Ace Ventura 3’: ‘There WAS an ‘Ace Ventura 3’. It had some kid in it as the main character. It was rubbish and every fan of ‘Ace Ventura’ pretended it never happened.’ I had to check IMDb just to be sure. Turns out there was an ‘Ace Ventura 3’. It did have some kid as the main character. It was rubbish (receiving a 2/10 on IMDb), and, being a fan of ‘Ace Ventura’, I am going to pretend it never happened.)
(Sidenote: Having brought up ‘Ace Ventura’, allow me to say that despite the many years since ‘Ace Ventura 2: When Nature Calls’ graced the big screen, I am still holding out hope for an ‘Ace Ventura 3’. So, Jim Carrey, if you’re reading this [probably unlikely], don’t let us down. I mean, you did ‘Fun with Dick and Jane’, ‘I Love You Phillip Morris’, and ‘Mr Popper’s Penguins’ [the latter two of which I hadn’t even heard of until I opened his Wikipedia page to see what movies he has done recently]; surely it’s time to bring back Ace Ventura, Pet Detective. Wait, what? You’ll do it for me and all your loyal fans? Alllllrightyyy then!)
(Post Edit Note: My friend, Cal, who proofread this chapter, made the following note relating to my plea for an ‘Ace Ventura 3’: ‘There WAS an ‘Ace Ventura 3’. It had some kid in it as the main character. It was rubbish and every fan of ‘Ace Ventura’ pretended it never happened.’ I had to check IMDb just to be sure. Turns out there was an ‘Ace Ventura 3’. It did have some kid as the main character. It was rubbish (receiving a 2/10 on IMDb), and, being a fan of ‘Ace Ventura’, I am going to pretend it never happened.)
Tip: If you decide to split some of the cooking duties (perhaps Tuesday night is her night and Wednesday night is yours), be sure that the meals you provide are somewhat up to the standards of her own. While I’m not saying you have to be Jamie Oliver, or, if she routinely provides a baked dinner, Atlantic salmon, or marinated pork tenderloins, that you have to match her with a Duck a l’Orange (which took you two hours just to be able to spell and find the necessary ingredients for at the supermarket), your effort should, in some way, be relatable to hers. After all, if she is regularly putting out the aforementioned quality dishes and all you can manage is a pair of microwavable-dinners or four-pack of two-minute noodles (which you only cook for a minute thirty), prepare for her to either start bitching, or... to start lacing your meals with drain cleaner and pesticide. Whatever the outcome, either lift your cooking game to put yourself in the same ball park as her, pay someone to start taste-testing your food before you eat it, or fend for yourself like every other bachelor whose culinary skills see them living off a diet of baked beans on toast (or, if they’re feeling particularly lazy... just toast).
Tip: When you’re dealing with females (and ladies, don’t get your ninety dollar pair of ‘I-only-buy-them-because-they-make-me-feel-sexy-but-we-all-know-it’s-to-impress-guys’ lace panties in a bunch over this), keep in mind that they are not the best when it comes to conserving electricity and/or water. Also, know that when I say this, I’m not approaching it with a post-apocalyptic-rationing-style mindset that would require someone to measure out every drop of water or kilowatt of electricity; I’m simply talking about the propensity a woman has to:
(a) leave the lights on around the house when she is either in another room or not even home.
(b) run the central heating throughout the entire house 24/7 despite the fact that you are walking around comfortably outside in bare feet, shorts, and a singlet.
(c) have the air conditioner set to sub-zero temperatures for the entire day when it’s not even hot enough for an albino to consider putting on sunscreen or a hat when venturing out into the sun to take a midday walk.
(d) use the electric dryer instead of hanging her washing on the line, never minding that it’s a sunny day outside, your washing dried in a half an hour, and it’s so hot that the neighbour’s cat (which usually sprints for cover at the first sign of you turning on the hose because it doesn’t like the idea of getting wet) is doing laps of the swimming pool.
(e) accidentally leave her hair straightener on for the entire day four out of every five times she uses it.
(f) take a quick, ‘I’m in a rush’ shower that lasts forty-five minutes and uses enough water to sustain an African village for an entire month.
(g) leave the iron on overnight after ironing a single top that she will change her mind about wearing the following morning anyway.
In order to limit the frequency of these occurrences, one should delicately attempt to set some ground rules early on - first of all, to minimise the waste of water and electricity (half of which you pay for, remember), and secondly, so that you don’t have to badger her every day of the week, to the point you either sound like a complete and utter dick, or... her Dad (who probably spent the first twenty years of his daughter’s life telling her to shut the light off if she’s left the room because he is the one who has to pay for it).
(a) leave the lights on around the house when she is either in another room or not even home.
(b) run the central heating throughout the entire house 24/7 despite the fact that you are walking around comfortably outside in bare feet, shorts, and a singlet.
(c) have the air conditioner set to sub-zero temperatures for the entire day when it’s not even hot enough for an albino to consider putting on sunscreen or a hat when venturing out into the sun to take a midday walk.
(d) use the electric dryer instead of hanging her washing on the line, never minding that it’s a sunny day outside, your washing dried in a half an hour, and it’s so hot that the neighbour’s cat (which usually sprints for cover at the first sign of you turning on the hose because it doesn’t like the idea of getting wet) is doing laps of the swimming pool.
(e) accidentally leave her hair straightener on for the entire day four out of every five times she uses it.
(f) take a quick, ‘I’m in a rush’ shower that lasts forty-five minutes and uses enough water to sustain an African village for an entire month.
(g) leave the iron on overnight after ironing a single top that she will change her mind about wearing the following morning anyway.
In order to limit the frequency of these occurrences, one should delicately attempt to set some ground rules early on - first of all, to minimise the waste of water and electricity (half of which you pay for, remember), and secondly, so that you don’t have to badger her every day of the week, to the point you either sound like a complete and utter dick, or... her Dad (who probably spent the first twenty years of his daughter’s life telling her to shut the light off if she’s left the room because he is the one who has to pay for it).
Tip: Learn what your roommate’s tolerance is to you having girls over. While there can be no complaint about a girlfriend or prospective girlfriend staying the night or becoming a regular visitor to the house (just like there can be no complaint on your behalf should she have a boyfriend or prospective boyfriend stay over on a regular basis), she may be averse to the ‘world’s going to end in a week so I’ll drag home anything that has two legs and is semi-willing’ lifestyle you may choose to live. While she may not call you out on it, the inwardly pissed off and judging eye she will appraise you and your sex partners with the following morning in the kitchen should alert you to the matter within three-tenths of a second. On top of this, she will vent to all her friends about your endeavours - after which they will also begin to eye you with the same disdainful look a happily-married-for-forty-years-upper-class-English-woman would have for a nineteen-year-old Manchester crack-whore, who would willingly give the happily married woman’s husband a blowjob in an alleyway for a twenty. Also, upon hearing of the quantity and quality of the acquaintances you keep (and by quality, I mean lack thereof), any chance you would have had with your roommate’s friends is as dead as a cow with a round of shotgun ammo in its head (unless it’s the semi-invincible cow from ‘Me Myself and Irene’, which Jim Carrey shoots nine times to the head at point-blank range and then has to resort to pistol whipping and using an MMA-choke hold in order to send it to greener pastures).
At the end of the day, if your roommate is fine with a carousel of randoms and floozies funnelling in and out of your bedroom and this is the lifestyle you choose to keep, by all means, carry on (and be sure to wear a condom); but if she isn’t... either tone down your ‘begging-for-an-STD’ lifestyle, or be prepared for an uncomfortable, intervention-style sit-down or a sudden, without-notice move-out. After all, it’s her house too, and she probably doesn’t want to use the same toilet seat as the 80-pound heroin addict/Hepatitis C-ridden-whore you stumbled in with at four a.m. on a Wednesday morning.
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