For better or worse we hardly cross paths. He's fresh out of college and at one of those jobs that tries to make you feel like you're still in college.

It's one of those situations where you're like, at least I know the score with this one, right? A new roommate would be a total unknown. S/he could be a tweaker, could be a thief, could leave bodily fluids on the couch. This guy pays the rent, at least, and half of his awkward is just funny.

But then something happens. It finally seems like we're having some kind of interaction, and he leaves the room midconversation again. He refuses once again to join us when we're making dinner or watching a movie (he's never once broken bread with my boyfriend, who also lives here).

He had a little superbowl party, with a couple of friends who he's had over before, and invited me to hang out. One of the friends says he has another friend coming. Cool! Low-key commercial-watching party with snacks and people. The other friend turned out to be a German girl in the US for a marketing internship. Know what she brought to the Superbowl party? Friggin Safeway apple strudels. A giant clamshell of 'em. It was adorable.

This is where I mention that besides living with two white kids, my roommate only seems to voluntarily interact with Chinese-born-but-fairly-assimilated people in tech jobs. It turns out that even the blonde kid who helped him move in was hired muscle from craigslist.

So we have this adorable German girl with her adorable gift of shitty grocery store strudel and no concept of the SuperBowl, and this array of young men on the Chinese-born spectrum none of whom have a clear idea of US football either, and it's almost comical how he shuts down.

I'm already the only one eating my cheesy chili dip, which he put down when his friends asked about it. They're all just eating chips and salsa. Whatever, ok, but now he very pointedly refuses her strudel. The other boys at least kind of try to engage her in conversation, but you can tell they lose all interest when she's not in tech. Nobody touches the strudel.

As a decent human being, I had two damn strudel, thanked her for bringing them, and tried to ask about her experience in the US. The strudel clamshell is still the bottom of the fridge. Below an opened tray of raw chicken breasts that I had to put into a zip bag for him, because he's a gross little butthead.