Tell Us Your Roommate Horror Stories
Somehow I’ve made it to almost-old without racking up too much roommate experience. Not counting girlfriends and relatives, I’ve only shared an apartment with one roommate in my life. And that lasted for just four months, or so.
When I moved to Greensboro I rented a place with a guy from the Convenience Story. And he was OK. We got along, and he wasn’t overly annoying or anything. A little red in the neck… but that’s not a big deal.
I was homesick during the early days down there, but he had it far worse than me. He’d call his girlfriend constantly, sigh a lot, and pace the floor. I tried to talk him into going out for beers, or to a movie, or something. But he just wanted to wallow in that apartment, and exhale a lot.
Finally he snapped, went back to West Virginia for a weekend, and got married on a whim. Next thing I know, he’s moving his new wife into our apartment.
Simply fantastic.
The dude was less of a sad sack after that, but the entire dynamic had changed. I was suddenly the weirdo, living with a married couple, etc. And I felt like I needed to keep things a lot cleaner… The whole thing sucked.
I didn’t think I could afford it, but I spoke with the manager of the apartment complex about maybe moving into a one-bedroom unit. She said they had none available, but one was opening up in about six weeks.
So, I went out and got a second job (on top of the ball-mashing gig I already had), and played Kato Kaelin for the next month and a half.
It was all very awkward. The one bathroom was right next to the living room, and the walls were thin. I could sometimes hear a bed squeaking (at an astonishing tempo) down the hall… The six weeks couldn’t pass fast enough.
Eventually I moved-out, and at the end of their lease the happy couple upgraded to a better apartment, a half-mile down the road. And the last I heard, they were still together: almost 25 years later.
And that’s the extent of my non-girlfriend/relative roommate experience. I later lived with my brother for a while in Greensboro, and shacked-up with two girlfriends over the years. But there were no other real roommates.
I almost took the plunge once, for financial reasons. I ran an ad and “interviewed” some idiot at a bar in Greensboro. He arrived in a novelty tweed cap, had some sort of ironic button on the lapel of his jacket (Archie?), and I knew I’d want to strangle the pretentious son of bitch within two days. So I never called him back, and didn’t respond to any of the other callers, either.
Therefore, I feel kind of left-out when people start telling roommate horror stories. Mine are limited and fairly lame compared to others I’ve heard. But I’m going to open myself up to further feelings of inadequacy, and ask for your far superior tales.
And that’s the Question of the Day… Please use the comments link below to tell us about your roommate experiences, especially the bad ones; the bad ones are always best.
And I’ll see you guys again tomorrow.
Filed under: Daily
Foist???
1st?
Silver Medal is close enough.
Wow, 1st!
It is a true honor!
No roommate stories fortunately.
Only one roommate no real problems just the occasional financial riff.
I only had a roommate once – when I moved here back in the 1980s. We are still friends to this day.
Never had the “pleasure” of a room-mate unless you count my ex. That was sort of like having the room-mate from hell.
I moved in with a friend/co-worker several years ago. We did a lot of the same things etc. plus he was working nights so it wouldn’t be like we were there at the same time all the time like a couple. (Weird) We rented a house on a six month lease and I deemed after the first few weeks it would be over in six months.
This guy, in his personal life was one self imposed tragedy after another. Just a sad sack existence of poor me, poor me, and finally pour me another when he racked up his 3rd to 6th DUI and again plead it down and went into ever revolving alcohol treatment to avoid prosecution.
Before that, the best fun was catching all the girls that would throw themselves at him and he would scare away with his cologne “Desperation for Men”. The pretty ones would always seek him out, then end up settling for me because I was funny and up-beat. I was putting the ‘W’ in wingman for about a year.
We finally let the lease expire after 2 years. There was always a new tragedy at lease time so we had kept renewing. We had been good friends, but I finally set a date and rented another place that was too small to be followed.
What color shirt were you wearing when you interviewed the guy in the tweed hat?
huh. first top ten in a long time.
I could tell one hell of a story about this chick I rented a room to. It’s a long drawn out story, much too long for this forum. Let’s just say after she moved out the last thing I heard was that she lost custody of her kid and went to jail for raping a 12 year old boy….she had to have been 22 or 23 at the time. Holee Shit!
I’ve got nothing on roommates, but…that “ironic button on the lapel of his jacket” (Archie?) made me wonder…
Was this a reference to Archie Bunker, or Archie Andrews? (Or, Archie Manning, maybe?)
I dunno.
Just trying to figure out WHICH Archie it is exactly that struck Jeff as ironic at the time, is all.
“Sugar, Sugar”
Back in the 80′s I moved from Indiana, PA to a little area about 30 minutes east of Pittsburgh. A girl I was teaching aerobics with at the local gym said she was looking for a roommate. Little did I know her boyfriend was part of the package. At first he’d spend the night with her a few nights a week. Then it became the whole weekend and eventually permanently. I came home from work one day to find him moving all of his clothes in. He contributed nothing toward rent, utilities and ate us out of house and home. When I finally said he needed to buck up and throw in a sheckle or two she said he does …he gives me money! So instead of splitting everything 3 ways. He was paying her half of what she was paying. Nice deal, cow. Needless to say I didn’t stay.
The very LAST roommate I had was a girl with whom I’d been great friends for years. We got along, liked a lot of the same stuff, and had no real issues….until Bitch lost her ever loving mind. She started a “pen-pal” relationship with some loser at the penitentary who was supposedly the brother of an ex-sister-in-law or some such nonsense. She sent him money and started accepting his high dollar collect calls. He made ghetto prison “mix tapes” for her and they professed their love over one visitation Saturday. They made plans to hook up after he got sprung — except the guy never showed. In order to get some “closure”, she started chatting up the guy’s old cellmate. Guess what happened? True love once again prevailed behind bars. This was the early 90′s, so I went out and got a high dollar, gigantic Zack Morris cell phone with a 30 minute per month plan and let her run the land line up with prison collect calls. Fortunately, our lease ran out before the Hamburgler got paroled, and I’ve not seen her since.
Hey, Swami…the reason I mentioned the Archie reference is because A) I work for Archie Comics and B) I am friends with the guy who wrote “Sugar, Sugar”. (Jeff Barry, just inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame yesterday!)
So, I am secretly hoping that Jeff does not find Archie (Andrews) somehow “ironic”…!
(Was the idiot at the bar in Greensboro wearing a Jughead crown hat or something?)
Picture it….College Freshman…first gets placed in a dorm of only upper classment….SO LONELY. Said freshman decides to move in with her other freshman buddies in the “normal” jail cell dorm.
Meets potential new roommate and agree on the move.
Moving Day….new roommate decides to build herself a loft….wood shavings all over the small room floor due to drilling all the holes to make the loft. New roommate nowhere to be found.
RA stops by to tell new person that new roommate is in the hospital for attempting suicide.
2 weeks in to new room….BF and his best friend come for a visit. Best friend and roommate decide they like each other and want to try a relationship. Sounds great…one big happy family, right? wrong!!! Roommates new BF lives in a town 6 hr drive away so always on the phone…16 times a day. Long distance phone calls equals big phone bill. $800 phone bill to be exact….phone company disconnects phone because roommate can’t pay her portion of the bill.
Now forced to always use the pay phone to call my family or my bf.
That was the last time I ever had a roommate!!!!
I had the mother of all roommates from Hell. I will only bore you with the last straw. This woman was a bartender and fancied herself a singer. She would bring home all manner of barfly men for the night and was a total lush. One afternoon I came home from the eye doctor after having my eyes dialated – I couldn’t see a thing. I was just coming and and ran into her and two male friends. She said she had to go park her car (which, in my SF ‘hood can take up to an hour) and left me there with these two guys. Awkward. I asked the guys where they knew her from and they said “the corner”. WFT? Seems as though she had picked these two guys up ON THE CORNER of Haight & Ashbury about 15 minutes prior to leaving them in the apartment with her temporarily blind roommate. She had never met them before. Superb! That was the last straw. I found another apartment and I didn’t have a roommate until I moved in with Mr. Knucklehead in ’97. Fuck dat.
Happy Tuesday, Surfers!
In the Bunker Cam pic… I dunno what’s more yellow…the kids teef or his shirt…
I have a good one, but won’t post it because others involved in the episode read this site and I don’t want to piss anyone off.
I had a situation similar to bikerchick’s and that was it for me.
Hey, Steph, pretty cool (both the job and the friendship). “Sugar, Sugar” is one of the greatest pop songs ever written, and I mean that with no irony at all.
I’ve always wondered if the lyric is “You are my candy, girl,” with a comma after “candy,” so the singer is telling the girl the she is his candy (as in, he likes to lick her and eat her). Or is it “You are my candy-girl,” like a milkman or waterboy, one who brings the candy (like one who brings the milk or water). Perhaps you could ask Mr. Barry which one is correct.
Where did you find that picture of me sitting at the table???
About ten years ago I was a flight attendant and as such had several roomates. One was when I was based in NJ & was living in a “Crash-Pad”. They call it this because this is the place where crew members ‘crash’ before taking off for their days-long flights. I had to pay $200 a month in ‘rent’ to this shit-hole that was basically a converted hotel and the rooms had 4 bunk beds in them, one bathroom per room. You got one bunk bed for $200 a month that you slept in maybe 3 times, but the same roomates the whole time. It SUCKED!
One of my roomates was a gay, drunk flight attendant. He’d drink constantly. Since he loved living so close to NY, he’d stay at the crash pad all the time. Our supervisors were concerned about his drinking, so they asked us, his roomates, to ‘watch’ him on his nights off. One night it was my night to ‘watch’ him & he wanted to go to a club. I have NEVER been one for bars or clubs but didn’t want to get in trouble if he effed up, so I went. He didn’t like me coming with & made that clear. We took the subway into town, went to a very packed gay bar & he proceeded to order our drinks. I also didn’t drink so had no idea what to order & let him do that for me. The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital.
Witnesses said they saw him bring me the drink, me sipping it & saying it was awful & not drinking much more. Next thing was he went to the dance floor & I went outside ‘for air’. They found me collapsed on the ground. They went in to find him, thinking I was drunk & he proceeded to come out & drag me (by my hair no less) to the sidewalk. That’s when they knew I wasn’t passed out drunk, I was passed out DRUGGED. He was saying he wanted to ‘get rid of me’ & they called the cops. He ran off, leaving me comatose on the sidewalk & one of the guys didn’t want to wait for the ambulance (he thought I was dead) so he picked me up & ran me 15 blocks to St. Vincent’s Hospital. My parents in CA (3000 miles away) were called in the middle of the night with this horror story & all the airline did was transfer this lunatic to another base. The cops found my ‘roomate’ back at the crash pad, soundly sleeping. He tried to say he hadn’t gone out with me, but over 12 people ID’d him who waited for me to come to (over 14 hours later) at the hospital. We filed charges, but he went to rehab so the judge tossed it out.
In the end I moved to a base in OH & only lasted for another 6 months because I hated the whole roomate business. Now the only roomate I have is my long-term boyfriend, four dogs & two rats. And that’s how I like it.
How is it that all of you folks have only had one or two roommates? I was poor as a church mouse during my undergrad years, and for a while afterwards, too.
I lived with a total of 13 roommates over a period of about 9 years (college and beyond). I shacked up with a few wimmins, too. I reckon that I might have been a worse roommate than most of the people that I lived with during that time. I was a pretty moody young guy. However, I have alway been a responsible roommate: I made sure the bills got paid, refilled the ice cube trays, did my share of house-cleaning (probably more), etc. I liked to throw big parties (we’re talking 50-100 people; multiple kegs; live music; lots of things broken or stolen) back in the halcyon days of my youth, so I suppose that became a bit of a hassle to the numerous roommates that I had. That may go a long way to explain the high turnover rate, too. My experiences during those years are probably not even replicable for a young person today, as law enforcement practices have tighened up quite a bit since then.
Again I shake my head in wonder that I managed to survive my 20s.
Hey….am I out of the loop? Where’s Angry White Guy? I know Jason has been off making babies, but Angry’s been gone for awhile. I miss that Angry lug!
Melissa-The IT nazis took away AWG’s ability to view from work and he hasn’t been heard from in awhile. My brother flew for Continental Express for a short time and also had a “crash pad” in Jersey. Since he was the new guy he didn’t have an assigned route and flew when someone was sick (hungover) or had vacation he spent more time than he cared to remember in that dank hotel.
I can’t believe that creep kept his job after drugging you.
My brother was in a Three’s Company relationship. He’d give them grocery money and they’d buy $25 worth of bananas. They both liked to keep their used chewing gum in glasses in the fridge for later. Many glasses.
Three of my friends shared a two bedroom appt. One guy paid more for the single room. He met his first girlfriend and she changed him in to the roomy from hell. They would do all sorts of things like start setting their alarm 2 minutes before the other guys and then take a half hour shower in the morning. They’d also set their alarm for 3 in the morning and have really loud sex. Every night.
Since he was the person on the lease, the other two guys just started shorting their rent payments to him to compensate for her moving in.
When they announced their wedding, he asked the two roommates to be his groomsmen. They returned the RSVP card (will/will not attend..) with a “fuck you” written in calligraphy . I think he got the hint.
WB, that is the company I worked for! How funny! I have purposely tried to erase all memories of those awful 6 months from mind (my time employed there) so doubt I will remember his name. I had to bid every month for a set job for that month, but there was about two 4-day sets where my job was to sit in the break room waiting for someone to call out so I could be there to fill in. There were always about 4 crews at a time in there playing games, watching TV and only getting paid our per diem pay of $1.29 per hour.
People think working for airlines is glamorous, but it is not. At least for flight attendants. Pilots on the other hand get ridiculous pay.
I had many roommates throughout my college years… the worst was definitely my final one, right after I finished grad school. He didn’t have any single habit that would make him a clear winner in this Bad Roommate Contest… rather, he was like a combo-platter of less-substantial bad habits. These included:
- Cooking huge meals that used up all of the dishes in the kitchen, and then leaving them all piled up in the sink for days on end. Additionally, any leftovers were left in whichever pot or baking pan he finished with… and these would sit in the fridge for over a week until they developed mold, and even then he’d ignore the stuff. A few times I pointed it out to him, and he’d say, “Oh, was that food mine?” Yeah, in case you forgot, you’re the one that made a big fucking batch of crappy chili that got burnt to the bottom of the pot. Also, it was all my cookware.
- Starting up a load of laundry in the washer, and then never remembering to move it to the dryer… it would sit there for several days, until I would eventually see it when I needed to run a load. Yeah, it didn’t smell too good by that point. And since it wouldn’t make sense for me to do anything else, I’d just move the mildewy clothes to the middle of his bedroom floor.
- He was a religious guy, and he’d walk around the apartment whispering his prayers… not a problem, after I got used to it. But it would freak the hell out of my friends.
- Again, because he was a religious guy… any time I left a Maxim or GQ or similar magazine on the coffee table, he’d flip it over so that you couldn’t see the scantily clad chick on the cover.
- He laughed like a cross between a hyena and Popeye. And he didn’t ever JUST chuckle at a joke… it always sounded like a gut-buster coming out of him.
- In any conversation that lasted more than 15 minutes, he’d end up mentioning how he’s bipolar… thanks, Debbie Downer.
- He would regularly wonder aloud why he could never get a girlfriend.
holy crap, Melissa! sounds like a story “ripped from the headlines!”
Jeff – spell check now??? Awesome!!!!!
Melissa – thought your story was going to end with a joke – unbelievable!!!! Sorry that happened to you…..
Worst roommate looked like the guy in the picture above even though she was a 22 year old female. I ‘inherited’ her from friends. She had a mouth like a truck driver – I would come home from work and she would be sitting in front of the TV watching football smoking and drinking beer with her hand in her pants. As I ran by her to change clothes and get out she would announce things like ‘I told the neighbours to f*k off today’ would also like to complain about how long it was since the last time she got laid. – Thanks for the image…..
She had this medical kit on top of the fridge because she was deathly allergic to fish – OH GOD how I just wanted to live off of fish knowing that, but I didn’t…. When I came home and turned the corner I would see her truck parked out front and keep driving to my boyfriends, who then became my husband who is now my ex. I’ll spare you from going there.
Jimbo – the thought of a laugh crossed between a hyena and Popeye makes me laugh hysterically – but hopefully I don’t sound like that.
Hey, Swami…I will be calling Jeff tonight or tomorrow with your question, even though I know the answer, I figured I would confirm it with him! (He is still in New York with his kids from last night’s big induction ceremony! )
“Sugar, Sugar” is also one of the sexiest songs ever written and sung…if you listen to one of the last verses, as Ron (Dante) is singing (as “Archie”!) he sucks air in through his teeth, like “Damn, you are SO sexy, girl” which was pretty risque for back then!
I had one interesting roomate at the begining of college. Being the 4th of 5 children I was told to ‘go away’ to college. Since we didn’t have much money my cheap ass parents decided to drop me 2500 miles away at my Uncle’s house.
The basic problems were that even though I was 17; I was several years ahead in maturity of my 27 year old Uncle. Without getting into the crazy antics over the years I will just give you a few headlines:
Both of us arrested the first weekend. He decided not to pay for the food we ate in the grocery store. I was just the stooge in that caper.
Dead Body found in the driveway
Detectives from a neighboring state questioning us about a ‘murderer’ who lived next door. (not related to dead body in driverway; that was an overdose).
Come home from Summer break and a new girlfriend/fiance is living in the house.
Did I mention he was a ‘budget’ drug addict? Start at Cocaine and work down to marijuana to pills to Nitrix to whiskey….
I still threaten my parents that I am dropping them off at ‘his’ place when they need nursing home care.
I had one roommate.
That was enough.
She listened to Air Supply and REO Speedwagon NON-STOP! To this day whenever I hear anything by either of those groups on the radio, I have the urge to jab something sharp into my ears.
She smoked, heavily and I didn’t. It wasn’t a problem for me except when she accidentally burn a hole in my things or clothes she’d borrowed. And even then she didn’t actually ever borrow anything. She’d sneak my clothes , wear them and then return them UNWASHED to my closet. Like I wasn’t going to notice?
She NEVER picked up after herself and was a complete slob.
She’d eat everything in the house no matter who bought it.
When she was home she’d park her ass on the couch, watch TV, talk on the phone and smoke. I never saw her touch a dirty dish or run the vacuum.
The worst of it was when she’d invite people over. Usually it would be after I’d cleaned the place up before going to work my second job at night. I’d come home at 1 or 2 in the morning to some slack jawed retard with oily hair passed out in my bed.
The final straw for me was discovering her boyfriend in my room with my underwear drawer open, smelling my panties.
I moved out the next day.
Stephanie: I anxiously await the answer. I have literally had that question on my mind for about 30 years. (Not that I wonder about it every day, but perhaps the two or three times per year I might happen to hear the song, the question arises in my mind.) Thanks.
My Marsall days, I had te best roommate ever, still in touch with her to this day. She is my daugter ‘s God mother. When she became President of our Sorority and had to move back in the house, I decided to “post” for a new roommate. After living in an apt, I just couldn’t go back to the house rules of no alcohol.
Ended up with a shy little mouse of a girl, those of you who know me know I’m not shy about anything. After about 2 weeks she introduced me to her 35 year old boyfriend,, she was 19 or 20. A month or so later they broke up and she informed me it was because he was jealoue because she liked me and decided she was gay. I ended up giving up my apt quickly and found a new place to myself!
1st roommate in ’94 barely talked to for 9 months. Nice guy, whatever.
Summer of 95 moved into a place with 3 guys from my hometown for roughly 9 months.
Fall of 95 during co-op in atlanta 1 roommate.
Summer of 96 lived with 3/4 people.
Brian and Hannah (couple until Hannah got sick of his shit and moved out)
Jeff, who I say maybe 4 times.
Carolyn whom I shared a bed with since we worked different shifts (which is great in theory) but when her current guy started staying there…
However now her name is Caroline and she’s been my girl since turkey day.
Fall of ’97 moved into a house on Fosdick in cincy with 3 girls and 2 guys. I was kicked out 6 months later.
No roommates for a while after that until an ex I shacked up with for 3 yrs.
In 2005 I moved in with another girl.
In 2007 I moved in with a girl (she moved in with me) and we broke up in 3-08, she still lives there and I still pay rent there so I have a place to crash in cincy when I go back.
Good times.
No really bad stories. I am generally the bad roommate.
Most of my roommates have been annoying, but not to the point where I’d shank them.
However –
When I was living in the on-campus apartments my sophomore year, (6 individual bedrooms, 2 bathrooms) I lived with the strangest mix of people. I really thing they just threw our applications down a flight of stairs and then matched people who landed on the same stair.
Two of the girls were these little Asian sisters who were TERRIFIED of me. I’d never been anything but nice to them, but for some reason, every time I entered the communal kitchen area, they’d clam up and scurry back into their rooms and close their doors. I don’t even think I ever learned their names.
One of the 6 left after the first week (woo!), the other was my best friend and…
The worst one…
She decided it was perfectly fine to have her boyfriend move in with us. I’d come out of the shower in the evenings and he’d be standing there, outside the bathroom door. To top it off, he’d get all huffy with me about it – like I was inconveniencing him. Really dude? Not to mention the poop fest he’d have in there regularly. I reported them to the RA and to housing, but… nothing ever happened. I moved out after one semester.
My freshman year (different college, different dorms), I shared a bathroom with my roommate (who changed rooms at the end of 1st semester) and another girl who lived alone. It was set up suite-style, so the bathroom had 2 doors – one for our room one for hers.
She’d have the LOUDEST sex ever. I’m talking ball-slapping, screaming, moaning sex in the SHOWER. The SHARED SHOWER. I’d get in and freak out a little because I knew what’d happened in there – and I didn’t know where either of them had been.
To top this off, we could each lock the others’ doors – and I was almost constantly locked out of my own bathroom, especially after their little trysts. And then she’d leave her room for the night. So, I’d have to wander down to my RA’s room, knock and she knew what I wanted without even having to ask. The nights she was off, I had to go find yet another RA who would let me into my bathroom. It was TERRIBLE.
And people wonder why I’m antisocial – lol.
Not my story, but this is definitely the worst roommate story ever: http://shiroioji.livejournal.com/114944.html
Every time I read a roommate entry over on Passive Aggressive Notes, I find myself deeply grateful that I’ve never had a roommate I wasn’t related to (blood or marriage). Granted, family can be a pain to live with, though.
This conversation just reinforces my position on the subject.
Hey, Swami…I have left a message with Jeff and asked him your question, verbatim. I am awaiting an answer, as well, and will post whatever he says here, word for word.
Will that work for you?
That’ll work. Thanks.
Keli: Holy crap….literally! That story takes one strong stomach. My favorite part of it, though, was the fact that a bunch of gays had to do the cleanup. I almost wish I was a fly on the wall for that. Almost.
my last roommate was AWESOME!! i guess she was more friend than roommate. She ended up leaving to do a prison rip for the last year and now that she is out I want her to come back. She failed to pay rent on time and in the end didn’t pay at all, she had boys over to spend the night, regularly came home drunk, and ended up going to prison and I had to move all her stuff out and field questions from friends family and neighbors over all that and still i want her back. She is simply the most fun anyone could have.
Off topic here but if you haven’t read Jeff’s “A Convenience Story” do yourself a favor and do so now.
It’s funny, well written and a bigger helping of what we get here daily. All the good topics are covered from relationships to rednecks to tubbies to skanks to beer to weed to shady criminal activity.
Good stuff; you go now; you read; you enjoy!!!
I have never had a roommate who wasn’t forced on me. The only times I had roommates was during training while in the Army.
The first guy wasn’t too bad. His issue was that he always got “sick” the day before inspections, so I had to do all the cleaning and arranging. But that didn’t bother since I don’t feel like other people can do as good a job as me when it comes to that crap.
The other two roommates were for the ages.
The second guy was a chronic masturbator. No shit, he would walk around with his hands down his pants yankin’ his crank all the damn time. And, he was an exhibitionist at that. I had to arrange our wall lockers and desks to break the room in two halves. That way I could force him to keep his organic batter blaster on his side. Every time he started blatantly spanking it in the room I would throw tennis balls at him. I had a box of about 30 tennis balls by my bed for ammo. I don’t even play tennis. This guy would punch the purple knobbed yogurt machine anywhere. There were times when he would disappear from long runs on PT run days…he would be churnin’ the butter on the side of the trail somewhere. During class breaks (thank god we weren’t in the same class) he would dump a load of non-stick-until-later spray in the latrine. He got the ever living crap beat out of him once for taking out the starched lasso while sitting next to some giant polish dude, who lived on the same floor as us, while everybody was having a good time drinking booze and watching SpongeBob. The final straw was when he was busted making dick blisters in class. IN CLASS. His duties of defending our freedom were quickly removed and he was kicked the hell out of the Army.
The next guy wasn’t as bad but he really hated his decision to join the Army. He’s lucky he had me as a roommate and that I didn’t care about his mental state. I was sort of a loaner so after the duty day I would do things like play on my computer, or listen to music, or read a book, maybe even go to dinner with guys from the platoon. Not my roommate, no fucking way. He would sit on the edge of his bed and stare at his desk for hours. HOURS. Just sit there, looking straight forward. Every night he would get a phone call from his wife. He never liked holding the phone to his ear so he put her on speaker.
I would listen to her berate this guy for half an hour a day. “you’re a piece of shit. “ “I can’t believe the military took you.” “If your dick wasn’t so small maybe I wouldn’t bitch so much”. “I going to try to fuck your brother again.” “You won’t see any of your children as long as you are in the Army.” “I wouldn’t divorce you just to make you miserable.” “I would rather you fuck my mother than join the military.”
No shit, she said these things and worse. Poor guy, he would only take shallow breaths sometimes because he said “I hate this air.”
If anyone else was his roommate, they might have cared. I found his misery hilarious. I hope everything turned out all right for that guy.
Now we’re getting to the nitty gritty of the roommate stories, oh yeah! Unfortunately I don’t have much to add to the disgusting tales. My first roommate was my future husband, and that worked out just dandy. I did come close to rooming with a coworker, but then she told me her deep dark secret of regularly getting it up the ass from her boyfriend in some sort of misguided ploy to “preserve” her virginity. Aaaaand that pretty much but the kibosh on the idea of sharing living quarters. Maybe I should have, I might have had a nice story for you guys.
Probably the ultimate “roommate horror” story I’ve seen is one I encountered online. Warning: much grossness, language totally NSFW.
http://community.livejournal.com/housematehorror/1451.html
I’ve waited for 24 hours for someone to do this. Jeff is a music guy for chissakes. Let’s have some fucking decorum here, or some musical sense or something sweet for lunch.
.
Swami,
I know that the title you hold isn’t granted without the focus, wisdom, and abstinence you bring to your holy position, and, for the most part, I have noted your universal rightness.
But I now see the limit of my powers of discernment. Your ability to find anything redeeming about “Sugar, Sugar” or any tune performed by cartoon characters exceeds my ability to comprehend, and I cease to believe my own ears. I know that’s not the cartoon characters real voices on the record, but in my ignorance I had come to believe that an ability to suck spittle through one’s teeth, a classic does not make.
Not being a holy man of any ilk myself, I might suggest, in the pop arena, oh, Mac Arthur Park or any tune off “A Tramp, Shining” as a better song, just to name the worst case scenario. I think I hear a little spittle sucking on the part of Mr. Harris whilst the cake is melting, so the music should qualify.
Or any tune by the Go Go’s or the Shangri-Las, just to remind us that women can sing (and write and play) pop as well.
So I remain gobsmacked by your ability to see greatness in The Archies. I defer to your wisdom, but remain in the dark, as usual.
yer humble servant…
jtb
A friend of mine let me move into a spare bedroom while I was going through a divorce. As soon as I moved in his C**t of a gf decided she didn’t want me living there even though she didn’t. She would come over and mow as early as possible on Sunday morning knowing I raced on Saturday night and never got home until at least 3 am. She finally talked him into letting her move in. With no notice I came home one night to discover I was now sharing a bedroom with her 4 yr. old son. They had placed his bed in a way that the door wouldn’t shut so I had no privacy even though I was paying him rent. Within a few days I had found an apartment and got the hell out of there!
Gretchen: is the lady still single? Love the backdoor girls!
johnthebasket – I was the one that mentioned the spittle sucking, not Swami. He just likes the song, as well as, oh…I dunno, a few other million people do. The gentleman who wrote that “spittle sucking song” also discovered and produced Neil Diamond, Olivia Newton John, and The Monkees (another “not real” band).
Jeff also wrote “Going to the Chapel” “Then He Kissed Me” “Iko Iko”, “Baby, I Love You”, “Be My Baby”, “Da Doo Ron Ron” and “Tell Laura I Love Her”. Also, “Leader of The Pack” and “Brown Eyed Girl”.
Now, I don’t know how old you are, and if you were around when these were hits, but it stands to reason that although you may not enjoy “cartoon character music”, Jeff was just inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame this past Monday.
So, while you may not enjoy that type of music, he is laughing all the way to the bank.
Rant over…taken personally, since I LOVE everything Archie (heh, the name of the cartoon!) and Jeff as well.
And I am over it, so please don’t flame me. To each his own as far as musical tastes go.
P.S. Some people even like Barry Manilow! Go figure…
Well said, Stephanie.
One correction, though — Van Morrison wrote “Brown Eyed Girl.”
Thank you, Swami. I am still awaiting a call (or email) from Jeff. I don’t know if he has headed home from NY yet (to California). He always responds to me quickly once he receives my messages.
I love that man. I really do.
Van Morrison wrote that song WITH Jeff and he is singing background on it…listen to the ending, you’ll hear him!
Jeff Barry is a talented writer, producer and singer. With his wife, Ellie Greenwich, and his crazy friend, George (Shadow) Morton, Barry wrote and produced many classics, including the Shangri-Las music, which I mentioned.
Jeff is cool. Ellie is really cool. Shadow is mostly weird, but gets writing credit for Remember (Walking in the Sand). That wasn’t anywhere near the neighborhood of my comment. I just don’t jam with the Archies, but I already deferred to the Swami’s wisdom, so I’ll defer to Stephanie’s as well.
jtb
Fer what it’s worth, I am also a fan of Archie comics. I retain some from a younger day and still check them out every couple of years. I wasn’t complaining about the comic book characters. It was the damn music.
jtb
Ok, Seanette, I thought Kelli’s link was bad, but yours was over the top insane. HO-LEE SHIT! I’m still trying to process it all.
Fryguy: Sorry, she’s married now and presumably sharing her big round rump with him and him alone.
Icecycle66: HOLY CRAP!!! I have never heard of so many ways of pullin the pud….EVER! Impressive!
And Stephanie, why the hell would I flame you for enjoying some music? It was the Swami who claimed for the tune heroic pop status, one of the best ever, and I threw in my two bits. I guess my attempt at a little humor didn’t bounce off like bullets off Superman. That’s what I get.
jtb
johnthebasket – I am glad to hear that you still check out Archie Comics every so often! Lots of kids today don’t know who they are (when I grew up on Archie Comics). Well, I didn’t actually grow “up” per se, since I am only 4’11″ but, you know what I mean!
Archie celebrates over 70 years in the industry, so I’m happy they have endured!
And I can truly understand not liking certain types of music and wanting to jam something sharp into your eardrums when you hear it…
Nope, my apologies to you, John. I didn’t think you flame me, I was worried about the johnthebasket lovers, actually!
heh
You mentioned Superman, too. Yay. My geek girl status meter just went off, again.
Commencing in a geekgasm.
JTB: Are you of British origin? I ask because you used the word “gobsmacked.” And if you are a Brit, then you might not know that the phrase “pop music” has different meanings in the U.S. and the U.K. In the U.K., I understand, they use the word “pop” to describe just about any type of music that isn’t classical (or perhaps also isn’t jazz or blues or country). In other words, rock music would be part of the pop music umbrella in the U.K., and all of rock’s offshoots would also be termed “pop music.” In the U.S., on the other hand, pop music generally refers to hook-filled tunes with light-hearted themes, generally intended to appeal to teenagers. So when I said “Sugar, Sugar” is one of the greatest pop music songs ever, I meant it in the American sense, not in the British sense.
I just now listened to excerpts of all the songs on “A Tramp Shining” (via Amazon), because I’ve never heard that album before, and I can report that that album is absolutely NOT pop music, in the American sense. (It’s more like middle-of-the-road singer-songwriter stuff, what used to be called “MOR” in the radio industry, I believe.)
I just thought I’d try to clear things up. Before any fists start flying.
So many to choose from…
“Brown food dude” who only ate food that was brown, chain smoked Marlboro menthol lights, drank Dew, and obsessively brushed and sprayed his hair while listening to Rush Limbaugh. Wottadouche.
“Stank Matt”- Similar to brown food dude, but spoke with a fake Irish accent for almost a year. Self-taught tumpet player who didn’t work so he could “practice.”
Dude who stabbed all the knives and forks in the kitchen floor because the rest of the house never did the dishes. He also put all the dirt dishes in everbody’s beds. He was justified, but scary.
Crazy Judy- pretended to go away for a weekend and hid in her locked bedroom so she could see (listen?) to what I would do with her out of the house. Not my girlfriend, but a much older woman from whom I rented the room. Fell in love with ex-con while volunteering at the homeless shelter. He stole my boots when he left.
There have been others, but I think those three are the worst.
Swami,
Born and raised in Tacoma, WA. Moved some as an adult: Seattle, Downtown Philly, south of Baltimore, back to Tacoma.
I agree with much of your definition of pop. I don’t quite agree with the “appeals to teenagers” part, although I was a late teenager when Mac Arthur Park was released, and it made the Billboard Pop chart (#2) and was being hummed by all my teenage friends.
I hope fists wouldn’t fly over a tongue-in-cheek fake flame about an Archies’ song. I’m as passionate about music as anybody, but nobody would consider this the Algonquin Round Table of musicology and nobody ever accused me of writing like Dorothy Parker (although I love dressing up in her duds).
Peace…jtb
I knew your comment was all in fun, and wasn’t at all offended that you’re not a fan of “Sugar, Sugar.” But just felt that I should step in with Stephanie to defend what is in fact a great pop song. Peace out.
This why I love this site. At noon it looked like this post had run it’s course. I leave to visit a job site and all hell breaks loose and is back under control by the time I get back. Plus I learned about twelve new sayings for masturbation. Great stuff people!
Okay, Swami! I just got off the phone with Jeff, and he said…
Are you ready?
After reading him your comment/question he said to tell you, specifically (and everyone else still reading, heh):
It is NEITHER of the things you mentioned! He said that the word candy refers to her (his girl) being SWEET and nice and kind and all things good and wonderful in his world. That his world is just a better place because of the sweetest girl he has ever known.
How’s that for an answer?
And, I thought all this time that Jeff was in New York (because I had not spoken to him in days) and he just told me he never even WENT to NY for the induction! His flight was cancelled from CA to NY due to the bad weather out East. So, he called up his friend (Steven Van Zandt) and asked him to accept on his behalf. Steven obliged.
There is more to this story/conversation, but I don’t know how much of it I should post here! (We were on the phone for 23 minutes and 31 seconds according to my Venus)…
Very, very interesting. Thanks so much.
You are very welcome, Swami!
I should probably go get some work done now…
Not only is thewvsr enteraining, its educational. =-)
My husband and I are pretty quiet and work most of the day and late at night, so we are almost “not there” wherever we live.
Worst roommate was in Walnut Creek, CA. My fiance and I rented a bedroom in a condo and had “kitchen privileges” from a woman that seemed super cool and mellow at first….(thank God this was a 3 month agreement while we looked for our own place).
Shortly after we moved in she got two kittens and put the litter box in OUR bathroom, with her “all natural cedar shavings”, or whatever, I LOVE cats but these animals and their all natural diet and no actual litter to absorb the outcome-totally disgusting, especially first thing in the morning.
It seems that kitchen privileges pretty much only meant microwave your food and take it back to your room, among other “rules” we were presented with after the fact. The worst? When she asked the upstairs neighbor if he could stop peeing at night, because she could hear it and it would wake her up. We got out of there as fast as we could.
I am suddenly so glad I have only had a couple roommates and especially glad I didn’t join the military. Good Lord!!! impressive the number of references to masterbation. impressive indeed.
I wish I HAD had a roommate due to all of the refererences to masturbation!
Just thinking out loud. Nothing to see here…move along…
FS,
When I lived in Indy in 2008 I lived with a vegan couple with dreads, tats, piercings, etc. Nice people, but I also had kitchen priveledges but they made no room for me in the kitchen. Also I felt weird putting my carnivore food in the soy-fridge. the worst part was the 6 cats that might as well have been feral, the two chihuahua that shit everywhere. And the two ferrets that lived in a cage filled with their own shit.
The cat littler box was in the bathroom and they cleaned it once a week maybe, it was towering with shit, there was shit and piss all over the floor, and eventually it was in the living room.
I thought PETA people thought owning pets was wrong?
I’d come home from work and go straight to my room. These people were arty, too. So every now and then the shower would be full of mud.
Bleah.
I pretty much lived with a covers hair metal band in the early 80s. Nuff said?
my only roommate was a bit weird but through him I met my wife
Last as usual…howdy, Surf Reporters! Been a while since I’ve been able to post here!
Worst roommate: the guy from Philadelphia who was normal at first, but after becoming a cook at various local college dive-bars he started bringing the entire waitstaff home after closing. They would proceed to drink 5ths of cheap tequila until 5 am while I worried if anyone was going to walk off with one of my guitars. I’m sure there was some cocaine involved, but it didn’t seem to help this guy: he would inevitably end up passing out on our couch and pissing himself, then would wake up and turn the couch cushions over as if nothing had happened. I kicked the fucker out after this became his “routine.”
I also lived with a married couple from Erie that were completely batshit insane, but I’d have to write a novel about them.
my current degenerate roomate feeds her cat raw chicken because she can buy it with her food stamps. we found chicken liver on the carpet the other day. yum!
Also, her room(and our hallway) smells like “a vagina full of bad decisions” mixed with death. Th smell nearly knocked me out cold a few weeks back.
Maybe one of those bad decisions was inserting raw chicken livers into it.
My current roommates just got married and are kicking me out so the new wife’s daughter, her boyfriend with whom she is constantly breaking up with and getting back together, and their infant son can move in to my 10×10 bedroom. I’d be pissed if I wasn’t so sure that all parties involved will be completely miserable once I move out and they move in.
Back in the mid 90s I lived in a house with about 8-10 other punk rockers, and one day I came home from work to find that my crust punk roommates had knocked the fridge over, cracked open the back, and were huffing all the freon out. I still lived there for a year, and could write a book about that place.
I have had a ton of roommates but Annabelle from my freshman year in college stands out as the worst. To her credit, she was bipolar & off her meds so there was a little method to the madness.
She bought a 5# bag of ice blue “gemstones” – those flattened marbles. She glued them all over the walls & ceiling of our dorm room. It did look kinda cool, but she used Elmer’s glue. As soon as the heat kicked on, they started dropping off & raining onto me in my sleep. That doesn’t sound too bad, but try sleeping with your mouth open. I nearly asphyxiated on one of those pieces of glass!
She also smeared hair dye all over my favorite blouse & a linen dress in my closet. She actually had to get into a GARMENT BAG to attack the dress. She was dying her hair in our room one day & I asked her to do it in the bathroom instead – that was what threw her into a rage.
She called my parents in the middle of the night to tell them I was suicidal (I wasn’t), I had done acid (I had) & I was having sex with lots of people (I was, but it wasn’t all at once). My dad drove the 2 1/2 hours to come get me, arriving about 5am to find me hung over & puzzled about all the fuss.
She finally dropped out of school a month before finals & that money-grubbing school STILL made me pay to have a private room.
Amanda – I laughed so hard at your post that I had to get up from my desk and do some work for a bit.