"What is this a Shoe Factory?" That And Other Passive Aggressive Questions To Ask Your Roommates by Carolyn Busa

What is this a shoe factory?
What is this a duck sauce packet factory?
What is this a soy sauce packet factory?
What is this a ketchup packet factory? (You get it.)
What is this a plastic fork factory?
What is this a plastic bag factory?
What is this a leftover container factory? 
What is this a crumb factory?
What is this a junk mail factory?
What is this a Bed Bath & Beyond coupon factory?
What is this a remote control factory?
What is this a clean dishes in the dryer rack factory?
What is this a dirty dishes in the sink factory
What is this a Japanese restaurants we'll never get take-out from factory?
What is this a disheveled shower curtain factory?
What is this a two pennies and a receipt factory?
What is this a computer charger factory? 
What is this a hair in the sink factory?


A word from the author: Carolyn lives with two nice boys, Greg and Aaron. She gets frustrated by shoes by the door, crumbs, and dishes in the sink. However, Carolyn has her own shit too including her dog's fur, her dog's toys and she does that thing where she repeats what they say in an annoying high-pitched voice. She thinks it's really funny. They don't. Greg and Aaron are super great roommates.


An Open Letter To The People At The LCD Soundsystem Concert Last Night That I Pissed Off by Carolyn Busa

Last night, in the middle of an LCD Soundsystem concert, my dear friend Pamela took us on a journey from the back of Brooklyn Steel to the front of Brooklyn Steel. Not uncomfortably close to James Murphy's face but much closer than where we started. 

Carolyn! That's not good concert etiquette! 

Believe me! I know! As soon as she grabbed my hand and said, "Let's go." I hesitated.

"People will be pissed at us!" I said. But she said nothing, only marched forward. I flashed apology smiles to every angry person we passed. Thank goodness it was dark and the disco ball was on break because I knew I was blushing.

When she found us a closer spot, a group of friends angrily told us what they thought of our existence. Pamela, one of the kindest people I know, confidently stood her ground. "What is this your first concert?" she said to them without any hesitation or remorse. The piano in New York, I Love You started playing. Pamela hugged me. 

Suddenly I didn't care anymore about the people I had to push in front of to get where I was. Concert etiquette or not, I was allowed a moment of being a dick. Like Pamela, I am an overall kind and generous person. I go through my days constantly worrying about the well-being of others and what people think of me and I still think about that girl's foot I accidentally stepped on getting to my seat at Little Shop of Horrors two years ago. I hardly ever turn in my '10th Cup of Coffee Free' card because I feel bad not paying. I thank my bus driver. I don't try and get out of jury duty. I do dishes in the sink that aren't mine because I don't want to waste a perfectly good soapy sponge. I tip 20%. I pay half on first dates. I walk in the street when there isn't enough room on the sidewalk. I donate to Planned Parenthood every month. I send Thank You cards. I've held multiple elevators and my god, I have held so many doors.

When Pamela asked those strangers if it was their first concert, I thought back to all the concerts I've attended and all the memories I have of someone pushing past me in order to get a better view. Sure, it was annoying at the time and I probably sighed or rolled my eyes (never missing a lyric to Weezer's El Scorcho, of course). But even more annoying was how jealous I was of their ability to seize the moment and get what they were after. Sure, we both paid the same for admission but they wanted more. So they found it. 

I'm not trying to put myself on any sort of pedestal or beg for a thank you. A lot of people do those things I do. But Pamela reminded me, and hopefully anyone reading this, that sometimes a little pushing is necessary. I deserve certain things and need to finally start fighting for them. It's not James Murphy's face I need to be staring at. It's mine.

So to the people at the LCD Soundsystem concert last night that I pissed off,  I'm sorry, but I won't be your baby anymore.