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During my last year in college, I lived in a house where my lease gave me a room by myself and a living area that I shared. When my original roommate moved out after the first semester, a junior from Malaysia moved in. I could never learn to pronounce his given name, but he went by Paul. We got along okay, and I learned a little about his country. He was the third Malaysian in my last four roommates, and the first of the three that I hadn't wanted to strangle. He didn't even lock his door when he'd leave. One day I accepted a package for him, so I took it into his bedroom. It wasn't so bad that I'd call it a pig sty, but I couldn't see any place to set the package! I went over to his desk and figured I'd stack some of his papers on top of other papers. I set the package on his chair and looked at his desk top. Front and center, there was a thin catalog with "XXX" in large print near the top and assorted small rectangular pictures. I picked it up to move it, and I noticed that these were pictures of men. I picked the catalog up, along with some other mail that was underneath, put it on top of the other stuff that was off to the right and placed the package in the space that I'd just cleared. My roommate was gay. Despite my conservative upbringing, I didn't have a problem with it; it just came as a surprise because I'd never known a gay guy before. When Paul came home, I told him there was a package on his desk. He thanked me and went to his room, and I didn't see him again that night. Afterward, I remembered that he had left a flier on the kitchen table a few days ago giving the exhibition schedule for the college museum for the semester, and that one of the displays was gay- and lesbian-themed art. ...

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