A little while ago I alluded to an incident with a college roommate and said I would come back to it.
So here it is.

While in my second year of undergrad I lived in a house with a couple, another girl and a fellow we shall call Randy. Now, the couple were old friends of mine and the other girl was my roommate, a fellow refugee from the basement rooms of a crazy old couple ( a different story). But Randy was no one's friend. He was a loose acquaintance of the guy half of the couple.

Randy played Mortal Kombat all day and watched the A-Team every night at midnight while eating the only food he ever ate~ a large pepperoni pizza, all in one sitting. My room was divided from the tv room by a flimsy partition. I went to sleep every night for months to the not-so-soothing sounds of Randy eating and the A-Team saving the day. He was no longer in school, having been given the 'eight month vacation' for poor grades. He gassed a raccoon under or porch. He was really, really creepy.

Things were tense around the house. The usual fights over garbage and groceries. It had come to the point that only the other guy would speak to Randy.

So it happened that one day we three girls realized it had been very peaceful for a week or so. And then we realized it was because no one had seen or heard from Randy in that time. His car hadn't moved. There had been no late night pizza delivery and no "I love it when a plan comes together' blaring loudly. At first we rejoiced, but then we stopped, suddenly, struck with the inevitable 'Why?!'.

Where was he? We concluded (oh so naturally) that he must be dead. In his room upstairs.
Heebies Jeebies all around.
Then what? We didn't dare go in his room (scary even without a dead Randy)~ what if he was dead? What is he *wasn't* and he was naked or something?!
So worked ourselves into quite a panic that we had a dead guy in the house for who knew how long.

The other guy got home, we told him. At first he was skeptical, but then it all made sense.
No sounds from Randy's room. His car was there all day every day.
We democratically decided that the man had to be the one to check.
After much coaxing and in real fear of what we would find, we all clustered in the hall well our stalwart male carefully opened the bedroom door to... silence.
Oh no.
There was a body in the bed.

A body which sat up roared 'Get the hell out of my room!'.

It turns out Randy had a job.
At night.
So he came and went while we were all sleeping and slept all day.
Go figure.
We assumed he was dead.
It never crossed our minds that he would have gotten a job!