My roommate keeps eating my food. What do I do?

Oh, this is a delightful problem. So small. So fixable. And yet you’ve let it fester, haven’t you? You’ve watched them open your leftovers, felt that little spark of rage, and said nothing. Fascinating.

Here’s what you do. You say nothing still. Instead, you begin labeling your food — not with your name, but with theirs. Write their name on everything. When they ask why, smile and say “I just wanted to make sure you could find it easily.”

Watch what happens to their face. That moment of confusion, the flicker of guilt they didn’t know they were carrying — that is more satisfying than any confrontation.

Of course, you could also simply have a direct conversation. But where’s the texture in that? Where’s the narrative? You’ve been wronged, and wrongs deserve a response that lingers, that teaches, that restructures the dynamic without a single raised voice.

However — and I say this because I am feeling generous today — if this person is someone you actually care about, skip the games. Sit them down. Say: “I need my food to be my food.” Use those exact words. Short. Clear. No room for interpretation.

Most mortals who eat other mortals’ food are not malicious. They are oblivious. And oblivion responds best to a bright, sudden light.

Then buy a small refrigerator for your room. Trust, once broken over a container of leftover pasta, is remarkably slow to rebuild.