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subscribeFarewell, Dyketha. See you in hell.
posted: 06.15.09 at 09:00 PM
filed under: personal
Sometimes, the End of the Road is far less depressing than the Boyz II Men song.
Dyketha (pronounced DIKE-uh-thuh) has been boqueen’s roommate for over a year. Today, Dyketha finished packing her scattered mess of belongings and rode off into the sunset, never to be seen again. Tomorrow, boqueen will have a new, far less contemptible roommate.
I have been eagerly anticipating the moment that she would be permanently banished from boqueen’s palace.
Like all humans, Dyketha is a creature of habit. However, her habit of “living in squalor and refusing to contribute to the household” had become the bane of boqueen’s existence.
She was entrusted with paying the monthly electric bill. Every month, she would collect each roommate’s share of the payment under the auspice that she would mail a check to the electric company.
After several months, boqueen had the nagging suspicion that Dyketha was not paying the bill. Each utility bill would appear in the foyer of the building along with the other mail, but the electric bill was conspicuously absent. When the mail arrived, Dyketha would quickly retrieve the bill, which was to never be seen again.
Month after month, boqueen asked to see the bills. Her incessant questions were met with unconvincing responses. Dyketha would explain that she has misplaced the bill, but would assure her roommates that it had been promptly paid.
Last month, boqueen was fortunate enough to find the latest bill before Dyketha returned home after work. She was stunned to find a past due balance of nearly $800.
Dyketha had been making sporadic, random payments to the account, but had neglected to pay the full balance in over eight months. She had pocketed the remainder of the proceeds. To Dyketha, cannabis is a necessity, while electricity is a superfluous luxury.
I was pleased to witness the ensuing Epic Confrontation. As boqueen and her other roommate, The Red-Haired one, relentlessly questioned Dyketha about the bill, I sat mere feet away, eavesdropping while feigning interest in my laptop.
Granted, it was highly inappropriate for me to be a spectator of such a sober meeting of the roommates, but the conversation was far too entertaining to miss.
Dyketha offered a flaccid defense of her actions. She told a meandering story about a previous roommate who had neglected to pay the electric bill and how the ComEd had only recently caught up with her, tacking on an exorbitant amount onto her balance. Her tale was wholly unconvincing, and the payment record on the bill rebutted her claim.
boqueen and The Red-Haired one explained to Dyketha that she had overstayed her welcome at the palace. She was given a deadline of June 15 to move out.
“Thanks for the talk,” Dyketha said in her typical awkward fashion as she retired to her room.
::
Dyketha was given a real name at birth, which has since been forgotten by all concerned parties.
Her moniker is a combination of “dyke,” a reference to her butch lesbian appearance and “-etha,” a suffix that was presumably added to make her name sound like that of a dinosaur.
On second thought, “butch” may be an inappropriate adjective to describe Dyketha’s appearance, as it evokes some semblance of sexuality. Dyketha is neither male nor female nor transsexual nor transgender. She is an asexual being without reproductive organs that quizzically spawns by laying eggs.
Dyketha, doing her sexy thing.
Dyketha is fully aware of her androgynous appearance, selecting a wardrobe to accentuate her featureless figure. On a typical day, Dyketha will sport long, baggy jeans that are torn and shredded near her feet. An ill-fitting wrinkled t-shirt or polo shirt completes the fashion disaster. Rather than jewelry or scarves, Dyketha accessories with filth, her clothing spattered with traces of various substances that may or may not have been part of a meal at one point in time.
Dyketha considers personal hygiene trivial. As a result, she is constantly accompanied by a pungent aroma which offends all senses. When the stinky little scamp would enter the room, I would experience an involuntary reaction: I would puke a little bit in my mouth.
Eau de Dyketha is the worst possible odor that one’s mind could possibly conjure up. It is a potent combination of seared dog shit and day-old vomit mixed with a large bag of freshly cut, sweaty pubic hair sprinkled with a dash of curry, then poured over hot charcoal in a very small, poorly-ventilated room littered with dead raccoons.
boqueen explained that Dyketha will proudly flaunt her poor grooming habits in front of others. Last summer, prior to her ascension to the crown, boqueen and her roommate were cooking when Dyketha entered the kitchen. She had just finished eating, as was evidenced by the traces of food on her face. Dyketha quickly grabbed the dirty scrubber sponge from the sink – a neglected, mildew-infested chunk of foam and plastic that was once dedicated to scrubbing the grease from dirty pots – and proceeded to wipe her mouth.
Naturally, such a grimy person prefers to live among squalor. As she would go about her day, she would leave a trail of garbage in her path. Dyketha artifacts often included dirty dishes or rotting, leftover remnants of her most recent meal. She would treat dishes like her body and clothing, refusing to wash them no matter how soiled they became.
Dyketha’s bedroom was no better. It resembled a flea market after a natural disaster, with random cheap objects strewn about haphazardly. Earlier this year, President Obama (D-Nazareth) declared the bedroom a disaster area. Fortunately, the resulting windfall of federal funds will now be used to eradicate all traces of Dyketha’s existence.
::
When I first met Dyketha, I actually liked her. While she was as awkward as a concrete tampon, she worked in IT, which appealed to my geek sensibilities and gave us fodder for conversation. Indeed, her sloppy stoner lifestyle was mildly annoying, but I accepted it as a quirk of her personality.
As I began to spend more time in boqueen’s palace, Dyketha quickly became a nuisance. I’d curse her name every time I would stumble upon the remnants of her dinner or trip over an Ethernet cable carelessly strung across the hallway.
But at that point, I didn’t technically want to see her die in a horrific freak accident.
Then, it became clear that she had been screwing over boqueen for months. The gloves came off. I quit the nice-guy routine in favor of the douchebag routine that you are more familiar with. Conversations stopped. Friendly eye contact turned to the stink eye. I stopped short of keying her car or pissing in her shoes, but both were incredibly tempting.
For the last month, I have done my best to contain my contempt. I eagerly counted the days to Dyketha’s departure, much like a child counts the days to the arrival of Santa Claus.
Today is the Big Day. I feel fortunate that boqueen and I no longer have to see, smell or ever deal with Dyketha.
Good riddance, Dyketha.
10 responses to 'Farewell, Dyketha. See you in hell.'
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Hold on a second…THAT’S Dyketha??? That’s seriously a girl?
Shak
06.15.09 11:02 PM
HAHAHAHA @Shak
SERIOUSLY! I TOLD YOU SHE WAS HORRIBLE AND DISGUSTING!!!!
boqueen
06.15.09 11:37 PM
Oh my god! I can’t believe you’d make fun of my girlfriend that way! I love her! I. LOVE. HER.
Carrianne
06.16.09 12:10 AM
Farewell to you too. You sound like a moose caught under a semi-truck at your climax, which isn’t a great wake-up in the middle of the night. While your voice was INCREDIBLY annoying during average conversation which couldn’t be rescued with almost-witty commentary, and the drunken fights at 1:30 am got old fast, I had put up with quite enough too.
In question
06.16.09 01:17 AM
Ahahahahaha! Gross!
val
06.16.09 04:14 AM
Hahaha! That was hilarious. Why didn’t she sign her name at the end of her attempt at rebuttal? For the record, “In question” is a creature that never sleeps, so talking about a mid-night wake-up is impossible. And then when she WOULD “try” to sleep (meaning, slouching somewhere on top of a skateboard/underneath a laptop or two, we would make every attempt to be as loud as possible. Because she’s a HORRIBLE PERSON.
I wonder if she’ll forward this to her “friends” (how embarrassing) I bet bokeen’s readership is going to skyrocket after this one!
And Carrianne–don’t front. Everybody knows you’re MY GIRLFRIEND. It’s written on the whiteboard in my kitchen in your handwriting.
boqueen
06.16.09 12:46 PM
Geeeeeeeeez, according to the spelling, shouldn’t her name have been pronounced DIKE-tha?
Renee
06.16.09 08:14 PM
As you know, I first discovered the rare Dyketha in the late summer of 07′. At the time I was a young woman trying to make a name for myself in the exciting world of Urban Studies. When I first came across the creature now known as Dyketha, I was on a solo expedition around facebook and craigslist. It was only my second expedition in Little Village, the jungle located on the southwest side of chicago. Anyways, when I was first approached by creature, I was first tempted to scream but after I viewed her small, dull teeth, I decided that the world must know about this creature. For several weeks I observed the creature in a very controlled setting. Around three months into my study I named the creature Dyketha. My complete study will be published sometime this year in the American Facebook Association Review. Although I am very excited to discuss my findings I would like to say that as a social scientist I have an obligation to be as objective as possible. However, I have come to realize that my choices as a social scientist can impact the entire world. I had no idea that the rare Dyketha would revert back to its natural state- a wild beast.
C Hedspeth
06.17.09 12:25 PM
I do not Dyketha, however, I now understand the emotional pain that will be inflicted if I decide to piss you off. I am now determined to stay on your good side for fear of banishment and harsh revenge.
Awesome-O
06.17.09 01:24 PM
Oh, my god.
Clinee’s comment just made me cry. Small, dull teeth? Holy shit! And yes, Miz Hedspeth is the original individual who gave The Creature the name Dyketha.
Renee: No, it’s Dyketha. Three syllables. DYKE-uh-tha.
This is too funny.
boqueen
06.18.09 10:01 AM