Hunger Games

Peter Moran
Sep 9, 2018 · 4 min read

As those of you who keep up with my life well enough know, I’ve recently completed my fourth postgrad move, this one being the first intra-city one of the bunch. From my prior issue-riddled digs, I have ascended to a palatial adequate new space a few blocks away. As circumstances and living mates change, my mind wanders to what drama the upcoming twelve-pack of months will contain. The prior nine months of living in squalor and constant roommate tension was stressful, but I found that it created prison-like levels of testosterone production, and with a mutual friend joining us we decided to live together again. My now second-time NYC roommate, who is also subscriber to this newsletter, brings a large 4K TV with him to the new place, so it seemed sensible to continue living together.

The new dynamic features four generic Brads, 2–3 digressive years removed from moderate collegiate athletic success. As such, one can imagine the undeserved ego, newfound purposelessness, and misplaced aggression that exists within these four thin walls. Let’s cut to the chase — where am I going with all this?

Let’s explore what would happen in an apartment-wide fight to the Death:

Meet the players:

Matt — 5’ 8, 160. Matt’s greatest strength is his sociopathic nature. If a voice from above announced that our apartment was locked down and a mini Hunger Games was about to take place, he’d have the least issue with taking immediate action. His dog-eat-dog mentality he takes towards far less serious situations — like grocery store lines and walking down the street — would serve him well. While the rest may be scrambling to realize the enormity of the situation and the terrible things that would have to immediately transpire, he would smoothly transition into the mindset of a killer. In order to win he would have to take swift action before the built-up resentment of the others manifested itself in necessitated physical violence towards him. He is also positioned closest to the kitchen in case of an arms race.

Tom — 6’ 0, 200(?). Though Tom did fail to complete a marathon given 5 weeks of preparation and a $100 bet, his mental toughness and survival instincts would serve him well. While others may find themselves on the ground after one vicious blow, Tom could weather significant bodily damage before giving up. Generally well-liked, those of us with consciences would struggle to take him out. Tom’s best bet is to form an alliance with Matt while taking out the other half of the apartment and then winning the final one-on-one. The most important part of this strategy is when the two turn on each other, so he must proceed with caution and set aside his friendly nature.

Peter (not me, other Peter) 5 7, 170. Peter has known the other two members of the apartment for a shorter period of time, so he’d be just fine without them. A former hockey player, he’s most familiar with physical aggression. He needs to channel this in order to survive. Having known me longest, he may be under the impression that I’d be willing to support him. Unfortunately, there are no friends in Apartment Hunger Games, and this would prove fatal. He must avoid the action as long as possible and hope for a manageable one-on-one situation, ideally the similarly-sized Matt.

Peter (me) 6 2 (6 4 with the right blow dryer), 200. As the only member of the apartment with longstanding ties to each roommate, I have to be very intentional about avoiding alliances. So long as I don’t show preferential treatment to anyone, the others may think I’d be willing to take their side. I won’t. It’s essential that I let the action come to me. Consistently winning one-on one battles will allow me to survive; getting into an unevenly numbered conflict would be the (literal) death of me.

Here’s how it plays out:

Matt, restless and eager to go, bull-rushes other Peter to set the tone. He believes that Tom will defer to him in a 3-way finale, and if he can remove Peter he will take the upper hand. However, I see that precise angle, as well as the loyalty I’ll earn by assisting Peter. As the two begin to grapple, I gang up while Tom plays the waiting game in the corner of the room, frantically putting together a text to his girlfriend in case things go poorly. The two Peters overpower Matt and three of us remain. Neither of the remaining three want to draw first blood. As I try to convince Peter to join me in taking out Tom, Tom tells me to take Peter out with his assistance. The conflicting suggestions lead to inaction. As we circle the living room, Tom bangs his knee against the coffee table and Peter pounces, eliminating our second victim. As Peter is in a compromised position and now tired state, I am able to finish him off. Relief floods over me momentarily, before I realize that I am now forced to pay rent four ways. Unable to come up with the funds, I find myself on the streets of Manhattan. My newfound survival instincts serve me well, but I find myself wondering if it was really worth it. It’s certainly difficult to explain to their parents.

I’m not saying this will happen, I’m just saying that if it does, I’ll be ready. Anyways, if you’re in the area come hang