For most people, college is less about formal education and more about real world lessons gained from suddenly being able to stay out as late as you want, ditch class if you feel like it and drink like a homeless person (both in quantity and product selection). College is where you go to find out who you are, how you fit into this world and, perhaps more importantly, what other types of people are out there beyond the limited pool of people you went to high school with.

This brings us to the closest relationships college affords- roommates. During the first year of college, assuming you aren't going to the local JC, you're headed for the dorms where you will have no control over who you get to intimately spend the next nine months with. Could be someone who becomes a lifelong friend or it could be a complete psychopath. It's all up to lady Fortuna on that front. After that first year, in most cases you will choose your roommates. Sometimes it works out great, but most of the time it's a nightmare. Eventually for most people, the latter years of college are spent in a large house with multiple roommates. This is where things get interesting.

But rather than walking through the cycle of roommates through the years, in this edition of Dissections we'll be examining the individual traits of the common (and sometimes uncommon) college roommate and how he/she relates to you, the good guy in all of this.

THE SLOB
This disgusting human being has no problem sleeping on sheets that haven't been washed in months, thinks that a cycle in the dryer constitutes doing laundry and possesses personal hygiene skills that are rivaled by an average two year-old. Nine times out of ten, he chews tobacco, and when that is the case, ten times out of ten he owns a spittoon that hasn't been emptied since the Clinton administration.

Annoying habits:
Leaving half-eaten bowl of mac and cheese under the couch for months, forgetting to flush the toilet the day after a late-night Taco Bell run, "borrowing" your clothes without permission, constant case of contagious foot problems such as athlete's foot or plantar warts.

Dishwashing abilities:
If you live with this guy be sure to stock up on paper plates and plastic forks because he has never met a glass, plastic or ceramic material that he didn't think would make a perfect petri dish for his disgusting bacteria culturing experiments.

Security deposit risk:
HIGH - The odds of you getting back one penny of your deposit are slim to none with this guy as your roommate as unremovable odors and fecal stained walls tend to be frowned upon by property managers.

Rent paying capabilities:
MODERATE - If he can find his checkbook, he's pretty good at coming through on rent. If he can't find it, it may be months before he finally does.

Standard conversation:
Hey man, what's that fucking smell coming from your room?

I don't smell anything.

How can you not smell that? It smells like a decomposing Eastern European in there.

I dunno.

Jesus man, you're unbeliveab- hey, is that my fucking shirt?

Oh, yeah, I borrowed it. Mine were all dirty.

What the fuck is that shit all over it?

Yeah, sorry about that. I fell asleep on my bed eating raspberries.

Raspberries? Are you shitting me?

What? I like raspberries.

Overall Coexistence Rating:
4 - He may be a really cool guy, or perhaps he's funny as fuck, but goddamn is he a disgusting mess to live with. It is astounding that in this day and age a human being can choose to live this way, but he's living, smelling proof that it's possible.

THE NEAT FREAK
With an eye on cleanliness and a strong dose of OCD, The Neat Freak is the antithesis of The Slob. He'll clean under the couch once a week and ensure that not a single layer of dust ever manages to settle upon any surfaces within the walls of your shared dwelling. While these things are nice in moderation, he has the innate ability to make what should be a nice, normal collegiate living arrangement feel like being imprisoned with Martha Stuart.

Annoying habits:
Playing the martyr ("I guess I'll clean up... again."), expecting you to be equally insane when it comes to wood polish, constant furniture rearrangement, being a Nazi about coaster use on the shitty Pier One coffee table.

Dishwashing abilities:
Second to none. Not only are the dishes so clean that the enamel is nearly worn off, but The Neat Freak will not allow any dish to sit in the sink for more than thirty minutes. While this can be great, in a place with shitty plumbing it can be a real hassle when you're in the shower.

Security deposit risk:
ZERO - There is a very good chance your landlord will return your deposit plus a tip once this guy gets done with the move out.

Rent paying capabilities:
SOLID - You can count on a neatly penned check with the corresponding month written in the memo placed symmetrically behind a magnet on the refrigerator on the first of every month. You can also be confident that there is no way the check would have been issued if there was any chance of it bouncing against the diligently balanced account.

Standard conversation:
Dude, have you seen my shoes?

Yes, I put them in your closet. You left them under the coffee table again.

Right. And my keys?

On the rack.

Gotcha. Oh, and what about my...

Backpack? On the hook behind your door. You left it on the table again.

But I was just going to be a minute.

That's a minute too long to have something out of place.

Overall Coexistence Rating:
7 - While it's nice to have a live-in maid as a roommate, the expectations of reciprocation can be overbearing at times. Despite that fact, it is nice to never have to worry about cleaning up after yourself, and if you've ever roomed with The Slob, you'll no doubt find The Neat Freak a welcome change.

THE INTROVERT
From his reluctance to talk about himself to his padlock on the door of his room, The Introvert is a tough nut to crack. It's hard to say what dark secrets have driven him to his state of social withdraw, but it's safe to say you probably don't want to know what they are. After all, this guy sleeps in the same place as you do at night. Do you really want to find out that he's a second cousin to Charles Manson?

Annoying habits:
Disappearing, not communicating, hiding, not being straight forward when you ask him if he's plotting to kill you.

Dishwashing abilities:
He may be great or he may be terrible. You'll never know because he washes all of his own dishes in his bathroom sink.

Security deposit risk:
VARIES - You're fine assuming that his personal projects are clean in nature, but you never know what to expect. If it turns out he's a chemist or a Jackson Pollock imitator you could be in big trouble come inspection time.

Rent paying capabilities:
MODERATE - In most cases you can count on a check being slipped under the door of his bedroom, but depending on the depths of his self-internalization, you may have to remind him what day of the month it is.

Standard conversation:
Hey man, what's going on?

(silence)

I said, what's up?

(silence)

Going to your room, huh?

(silence)

That's cool. I was thinking of going to my room at some point too.

(silence)

Hey man, what do you do in there anyhow? I'll be you masturbate a lot.

(door slams shut)

I've got some good porn you could borrow if you want.

(silence)

Just let me know. Anytime, you hear?

(silence)

Overall Coexistence Rating:
8 - Assuming you have friends of your own and he's one of the good ones when it comes to paying rent, living with The Introvert isn't so bad. However, if he's a big knife collector and seems fond of human physiology, you may find yourself having trouble sleeping at night.