A few months ago, I was flipping through channels and landed on The Bachelorette. I’m not a huge fan of the show, but it always brings back happy memories of piling on the Alpha Phi couches (and getting there early so you didn’t have to sit on the side that smelled odd) to watch the show.
After watching for a few minutes, they showed the bio of one of the dudes. His name was Kasey Kahl and he was from Fresno, CA. I got a flash of recognition. I knew this guy, but from where? Another show? And then it hit me like a ton of bricks; he dated my roommate freshman year of college.
Yes, I am so very lucky to say that I have met the fame whore before he started dating the shnoz, Vienna (if you have no idea what I’m talking about, that’s good. It means you’re doing something more meaningful with your life than watching trash TV. I, however, cannot say this) (also, what is with that hair?! could she please get a new stylist, stat). If you had asked me what my roommate’s “back home” boyfriend’s name was, I couldn’t have told you for a million dollars. But flash that cheesy smile, a name and a location and it all came flooding back.
My freshman year roommate and I were randomly paired up and did not exactly hit it off. We were polar oppositites who grew to tolerate each other and gasp! Even like each other a little by the end of the year. I tried to look her up on facebook to send her a note and get her take on the ex’s new found fame and sadly, I could not find her. It seems she has a respectable job now and I’m sure doesn’t want a rash of people asking her about past exploits. But I think I’m safe in saying that her freshman-year-of-college self would be quoted along the lines of “Yeah, I broke up with him. So I win”.