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My college roommate Jessica thought Alaska was an island because "it's always shown separated from the rest of America on maps." But her stupidity nearly got me expelled when she called campus security claiming I was "cooking meth" in our dorm room. I was making ramen noodles with a small electric kettle. Her report triggered a full investigation, drug dogs, and a disciplinary hearing that almost destroyed my academic career and my shot at med school. All because she'd never seen someone make instant noodles before and thought the steam was "suspicious chemical vapor."

Jessica came from extreme wealth—her dad owned luxury car dealerships across three states. She'd been raised by nannies and private tutors, never exposed to basic life skills. This was her first time living away from home.

On our first day as roommates, she asked where the "food servants" were and seemed confused when I explained we had to make our own meals. She'd never operated a microwave, didn't know how to do laundry, and thought the communal bathroom was "where the cleaning staff lived."

She once asked if I needed to "renew my subscription" to use the shower because she'd noticed I showered daily but only did so twice a week "to save money on the water bill." When I explained utilities were included in housing, she looked genuinely shocked.

The problems started when I bought a small electric kettle to make tea and instant noodles in our room. I'd been using it for weeks without incident.

One Thursday evening, after a brutal organic chemistry session, I was making chicken ramen. Jessica walked in from yoga class. She stopped, staring at me in horror.

"What are you DOING?" she demanded.

"Making ramen?" I said.

"That's not ramen," she said, pointing. "Ramen comes in plastic cups you add hot water to. What you're doing involves chemicals and steam and... apparatus."

I tried explaining instant noodles can be made different ways, but Jessica was fixated on the steam and my "laboratory-looking device."

"My father warned me about roommates making drugs using kitchen equipment," she said.

"Jessica, it’s literally just noodles and seasoning powder," I laughed.

She wasn’t joking. That night, while I was at the library, Jessica called campus security and reported "suspicious chemical experiments."

I returned at 11 PM to find two security officers outside our door. They’d searched our room and confiscated my kettle.

“Ma’am, your roommate reports that you’ve been heating unknown substances and creating vapor clouds.”

“I was making noodles,” I said.

“Describe the process,” he asked.

"Jessica reported seeing you add white powder to boiling liquid while wearing safety equipment," said the RA.

“Safety equipment?” I asked.

“She said you were wearing protective eyewear.”

I realized she meant my regular glasses.

Things escalated. Drug dogs searched our room. The “white powder” Jessica scraped from my kettle turned out to be chicken seasoning.

I had to attend a disciplinary hearing with the Dean, campus security, and res life. Jessica submitted a written statement describing my “laboratory activities.”

I brought the kettle and ramen packets, then demonstrated the “suspicious process.” I added seasoning powder to hot water. The room fell silent. The Dean looked embarrassed. The security chief looked annoyed.

“Miss Chen,” the Dean said, “you understand your roommate believed you were making drugs?”

“I understand she’s never seen someone make instant noodles.”

The charges were dropped, but the damage was done. I missed a week of classes. My pre-med advisor had been notified, creating a formal record. Even though I was cleared, the incident showed up on background checks.

I had to write explanation letters to every med school I applied to, explaining how I was falsely accused of making meth with ramen noodles. Three schools rejected me without interviews.

Jessica never apologized. When I confronted her, she doubled down, saying “normal people don’t make food that way,” and I should’ve “disclosed my cooking methods.”

I eventually got into medical school but had to work twice as hard to overcome the red flag in my application. I'm now a resident physician.