The first time I visited Robby’s dorm room in college, my jaw dropped. The place smelled like detergent and featured a crisply made bed. His desk held two large, shiny computer screens and his wardrobe was tightly closed. Even the rug was spotless. I plopped on his bed and asked him what color his day was. As we talked, he plucked a pair of khakis from his laundry hamper and unfurled them loudly to banish the wrinkles. Then, he folded them lengthwise, pulled the legs taut, and straightened the inseam. Continue reading