Roommate Trouble

[KatieLoeb]

I made him move out after that.  Invading my effin' bed with drunk bimbos was more than I'd signed up for.

i'd think that some people would look for that quality in a roommate. in fact, where i come from, that'd be considered an "awesome roommate".

Even if I were into the random chicks from time to time, they were inevitably so inebriated as to have rendered themselves useless.

If he were gay and had brought men home to stumble into my bed that would have been refreshing. Except they would have been gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Just a small handicap in terms of stumbling into my bed and making themselves useful rather than an unwelcome/unpleasant surprise. Just another example of my theory that men are like parking spaces. All the good ones are either taken or handicapped

[winesonoma]

I lived in a house in college with two other guys. The first week we lived there the third guy (he was a last minute replacement for a buddy who flunked out) let his dishes pile up so long that they became infested with maggots. We got on him pretty hard about this and he started doing his share.

About two months later he got back in the habit and he just wouldn't get around to it. So that Friday night while he was out on a date we put his dirty dishes in his bed. When he came home (with his date in tow) and they "went to bed" he was none too pleased. But he did do his dishes from then on.

Although at the end of the year he stiffed me for about $300 on the utilities - he was a real prick.

Did that to a roommate in 1966 who had not scored in 3 years. I can still hear her yell at him. don't know if he ever scored again. Moved the next day and stiffed us for the rent and we still had to do the dishes.

[Mudpuppie]

Argh, I remember the battle of the dishes. My first apartment was shared by a high school friend. We were both anti-social enough to dread looking for other roomates.

We had olympic grudge matches about who would do the dishes (and, mind you, we had a dishwahwer). This was before I learned about direct communication. The dishes would be stacked up on all remaining counter space, and I was always the one who caved first.

And then there was the hamster cage.

Eventually she moved to Canada, literally overnight.

She's since moved back and we're friends again, but I'm glad we don't live together.

[bloviatrix]

I made him move out after that.  Invading my effin' bed with drunk bimbos was more than I'd signed up for.

i'd think that some people would look for that quality in a roommate. in fact, where i come from, that'd be considered an "awesome roommate".

Even if I were into the random chicks from time to time, they were inevitably so inebriated as to have rendered themselves useless.

If he were gay and had brought men home to stumble into my bed that would have been refreshing. Except they would have been gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Just a small handicap in terms of stumbling into my bed and making themselves useful rather than an unwelcome/unpleasant surprise. Just another example of my theory that men are like parking spaces. All the good ones are either taken or handicapped

Katie, I can imagine what you went through was pretty rotten. But you've got to admit, it makes for a funny story.

[ruthcooks]

My favorite definition of marriage is "two social systems in collision". Almost the same for having a roommate, except you don't necessarily love them.

For me, all conflicts in marriage are exemplified by the Pie Theory. In my family of origin, there were 6 members and the pie got cut in 6 pieces and your piece was yours until the end of time or you ate it. No one ever touched your pie. (Probably because you never knew if it might be Dad's and Dad would kill you if you ate his pie.) Since the entire family was comprised of foodies, the pie disappeared fast.

In my ex's family, the pie was not cut all at once. People were free to hack off slabs or slivers at will and if you did not look sharp the pie was gone before you got there. Extremely uncivilized.

When we were all college students my brother-in-law stayed with us for a summer. I made a family recipe for a special uncooked peach pie and cut it into 6 pieces so the three of us could each have two pieces. After cutting I remarked that I didn't think I had ever cut a pie so perfectly even. The BIL and I each had a piece and I went to bed as my husband was working a late DJ shift.

The next morning I asked him if he ate his pie when he got home the night before. He said he had, but that it was a very small piece which his brother served to him. When he remarked how small it was, the BIL said "Ruth must not have cut it very evenly."

Guess whose BIL had been hacking pie in the night? Later evidence proved that a pie sneaker cannot be trusted. Nor his brother, for that matter.

Edited February 5, 2004 by ruthcooks (log)

[tryska]

*lol* @ pie-sneaker. i'm going to have to remember that test.

Edited February 5, 2004 by tryska (log)

[BrennaMorgan]

My roomate's losing a lot of weight; i think she's developing an eating disorder. In my case, I'd like to have nametags--so I could put her name on everything and actually see her eat.