How to Live With Another Person

Living with another person. Can it be done? You bet. And it is being done, in villages and municipalities all over the country, with results ranging from good all the way up to swell.

Married folks do it. Unmarried folks do it. What are your chances of pulling it off? Not too bad if you realize this simple truth: The Other Person is not you. That may seem apparent, but it's actually one of life's trickier concepts. Some people go right through to the end of the trail and never quite get the hang of it.

For example, the O.P. may get a headache when you feel fine. Or, even more maddeningly, may feel fine when you have a headache. That same individual may not share certain pleasures of yours, such as Nazi marching music or lying around for hours, figuring out how to get even with people. It doesn't mean you're dealing with a bad person; but what you do have on your hands is an entirely different person, a separate entity, like Soweto, to be dealt with in a dignified manner and not necessarily dumped on.

Who to pick

Can any two folks live together? Obviously not, at least without killing and maiming each other. Great care should be taken in the selection of that certain someone. You don't just rush down and ask the doorman to move in. But without getting into a whole thing about where to find such a person--we all know the list: supermarkets, "Bush in '88" cocktail parties--the good news in that department is that nine times out often, the O.P. will pick you. Especially if you've been out there vegetating long enough. Someone is finally going to come along and decide that you are not all that big a dirt bag. This does not mean that you have to trot right along when you're tapped on the shoulder. It's not like being arrested. You have every right to mumble something under your breath and get out of town. A lot of people don't realize that and wind up needlessly blowing 20 or 30 years.

A word of caution: Make sure the person who selects you isn't hooked up to some kind of apparatus. (This is a harsh consideration, but you'll receive backing from most Americans, as evidenced by the rejection of the Bleeding Heart Position in the last election.) There are too many other things to worry about--drawer space, division of responsibilities--and you are just not going to make it with a new person and a machine. Well, maybe a small machine, but certainly not the kind that has to be wheeled around by attendants. Then you have to worry about accommodations for the attendants. You can see what a mess you're getting into. If the O.P. requires some kind of apparatus later on, you can sit down and discuss it. But not at the early delicate stage.

For those who insist on having a say on who they get to live with, what's a good kind of person to pick? Say you're fair-skinned. Even an albino. Should you shoot for Madam Swarthy? What if you're a slim-bones? Would you be happy with a heavy-hipped chunker? Probably not. Opposites do attract, but that's not to say they won't kick out at each other in close quarters. On the other hand, people who resemble each other tend to get along nicely. Ever notice how happy couples start to look alike? Being with someone who looks, feels and smells like you lowers your risk. So why fool around--especially when it's your first time in the batter's box? For coziness, security and a sense of well-being, get yourself another you.

Still, if you're a Keeper, it's best to find yourself a Thrower-Outer. Keepers can't bear to part with so much as an old gum wrapper. Thrower-Outers love to get rid of stuff so they can make room for the new models. Two Keepers in the household will eventually be discovered by police beneath a mound of possessions they can't bear to part with. Keepers and Thrower-Outers match up nicely.

Where to do this

Your place or the O.P.'s? One solution is to stay right where you are, since you're there already and all you have to do is provide a little extra space. On the other hand, the O.P. may have a place that's more comfortable than yours, something that was part of a settlement. Moving into the O.P.'s apartment will demonstrate that you've got the guts and the self-confidence to accept stuff from other people without feeling like a welfare cheat. It's not a bad reputation to have. Once it's established that you have the capacity to receive, there's no end to the things that will pour in, all of it to be laid aside for the future.

Keep in mind, however, that if you're the one who moves in, you're also the one who gets thrown out should that time roll around--which it invariably does, according to statistics compiled by the U.S. Department of Commerce. So if you do move into the O.P.'s apartment, make sure you're willing to spend time in a men's shelter at some future date.

Who gets to do what

Who gets to clean the ketchup bottles? Who floats the eggs? (An important new freshness test: If they float, they've had it.) You can keep these things loose, of course, and just let them happen. Whoever is driven crazier by noise down the hall is the one who gets to charge down there and tell them where to get off. But it's best to have a general sense of who does what. A good move, early in the game, is selflessly to declare full responsibility for the garbage. The O.P. will be touched and overwhelmed and may well insist on doing everything else. And garbage isn't all that bad. Ever meet (concluded on page 178)How to Live with Another(continued from page 122) a big-city garbage guy? Cleanest guy in the room. Immaculate fingernails, no crumbs in his beard. If you eat in a lot of restaurants, you may not have garbage.

So get down for garbage.

Fidelity

There's been a lot written about how having a couple of affairs now and then can ventilate a relationship; you return home as a richer and less tense person, passing on to the O.P. such benefits as little breathing and tickling tricks. A quick tumble with an old cheerleader friend. A meaningless romp with a roomful of hookers. But it just isn't so. A good rule is to bite the bullet and put the tension into the relationship. A person who is seething with a need to have an affair can make a spirited and fascinating companion. And besides, not having affairs will put you right in step with the religious fervor that's sweeping the nation.

Take the long view. After all, once you've rolled around with some hot little junior exec, what are you really left with except some pathetic memories of how nice it was and how you'd like to do it again as fast as possible? And what is that, really, in the great spectrum of experience? Better to slink home and face life the way it really is. And it's less expensive.

Trust

The other side of fidelity. If the O.P. expresses a need for a little fresh air, there's no reason to have that individual tracked with advanced laser devices to see if something's amiss. Upon the O.P.'s return, a few sharp questions will let you know if there's been any fooling around.

Privacy

The fact that you're living with someone doesn't mean you've forfeited all right to privacy. The O.P. has every right to a little, too. These periods are terribly important. How else can you build the strength to go on living together? And lack of space is no excuse. Even in a tiny apartment, a small space can always be cordoned off, with a canvas thrown over the privacy seeker, if necessary. In an emergency, you or the O.P. can sit in the building lobby.

Respect that privacy, too. It won't do to stand around with folded arms, saying, "Are you through with your privacy yet?"

Fights

Let them happen. They are an essential part of living together. Of course, there is no need to let them get out of hand and turn into a whole burning-bed scene. A little light verbal abuse can often get you by very nicely. And it's essential to put an end to the hostilities before bedtime. In that way, you can be fresh and rested for another go, first thing in the morning.

Sex

Just because you live with someone, it does not mean that you own that individual. Let's say you're in the mood for an evening of oral sex. The O.P. may feel like only a couple of hours' worth. These things happen. There may have been a death in the family. Or a graphically depicted famine on TV. Again, we're talking about a separate individual whose sensual needs may diverge from yours. There will be a time when the O.P. will simply not want to impersonate an accident victim. Or dress up as Madam Curie. Don't just storm out, saying, "No nipple torture tonight? Fine. But there are plenty of fish in the sea." Be patient. With a little tact and understanding, you'll get your Curie freak-out.

Don't assume anything

A wise rule in the great game of living together. Let's say you're down with the flu. Reason dictates that the O.P. will fluff up your pillows and bring you buckets of tea. Don't count on it. Though worthy and humanistic in other areas, the O.P. may simply not like sick people. This same individual may be a generous contributor to dengue-fever research--and at the same time prefer not to be around dengue-fever victims. The same principle holds true when you're on fire. The O.P. may not be able to offer assistance. Indeed, the O.P. may be just as wrecked as you are. It's a sad and ironic fact that even if you live with another person, if you're in flames, you still may have to douse yourself out.

Is it worth it?

Living together, finally, requires enormous patience and selflessness on the part of at least one individual. Someone is always trying to squirm out of the arrangement. And it's tremendously expensive, because of duplication. You're liable to come home with a Toyota only to find that the O.P. has already bought one. The same for mouthwash. But is it worth it? Absolutely. No longer will you find yourself hollering your grievances and betrayals to the four walls. The O.P. will be right there beside you, recording your dissatisfactions, so that they will not be lost to future generations. In turn, the O.P. will receive the richest of rewards: a chance to see and hear the real you. That alone should make it worth the trip.

"Even if you live with another person, if you're in flames, you still may have to douse yourself out."