What's the strangest roommate you've ever had?

In My Humble Opinion
21

My freshman year in college, very first roomate. We were friends in high school but obviously never really new each other or we NEVER would have agreed to live with eachother.

She had OCD. I can be a rather messy person but because I knew (after we had been living together for awhile) of her condition, I kept my side of our shoebox fairly neat.

She would clean her cleaning supplies. I came home one day to find her scrubbing down her bottle of windex with the 409. She would get up three times every night to check the door. She would vacum EVERY DAY and if would rant and rave when I didn’t.

My first class was at 10, hers was at 8. Every morning at 6:30 she would turn on the radio, sing while getting ready and slam anything she could get her hands on. When I asked her to please keep it down she would just say dismissively “oh, it’s just louder to you because you’re alseep.” When I would get home from classes in the afternoon, she would ALWAYS be taking a nap and if I so much as sneezed, all hell would break loose.

She would spend HOURS on the phone every night with a guy from the NEXT DORM. My friends from home would page me, I could never call them back because she’d be off the phone in “a couple of minutes” (3 hours later)

I went from that to sharing an apartment with a chick who would leave open cans of refried beans on her bed and q-tips covered with ear wax on the coffee table.

It’s no wonder I live by myself now…

22

I had another room mate that I took in to help pay the rent and, not learning from the first time, naturally he was an alcoholic and young. The first few weeks were cool, for he paid me the rent, went to work, went to meetings, did not drink and minded his own business. Then the young stud started showing up with chicks in his room. (I got jealous because I was in a dry spell.) They drank and so he started drinking beer, assuring me that he could handle it. I told him that was fine, so long as he was sure. He was cool for a few more weeks and then one day I awoke to find my living room painted white.

He had been up all night painting it, as he was a painter. I said cool, wondering how he had managed to move everything around and get the job done. (Much later, I discovered that he did not move things, like book cases and the couch, but painted around them.) Then he started taking off a lot and when he was home, he locked himself in his room.

Then my rifles on the gun rack vanished. I confronted him and he confessed to stealing them and I told him to get them back or it was off to jail for him. It was then that I discovered he was doing crack and had traded my guns for rock. I let him use his next rent payment to buy them back and that pissed him off because the dealer wanted more for the guns than he had paid him in crack. Nice guys.

We discussed his crack usage and he said he could handle it and, not knowing much about the drug, I said OK, but warned him against stealing anything else because I would be watching and would happily toss him in jail.

One night, when I was leaving the bathroom, I walked into a very busty, nude chick he had been balling and surprised both her and I, but I liked it. I was thinking of asking him to set me up with some chicks.

He paid me the rent one day, with additional added to make up for the lost payment and took off to party. A few hours later he returned with a friend and demanded his rent back. It was in my pocket but I told him it was in the bank. He insisted on getting it back and offered to have the fellow who was waiting outside to come in and beat my ass. I refused and he attacked me. After a brief struggle, I produced my switchblade and poked him under the chin with it, which calmed him down real fast.

Then, being a good natured and trusting fool at the time, I closed it and put it away, preferring to talk to him like a good guy. He pounced on me, ripped my pocket open in the struggle, stole the rent and fled. I called the cops and filed a warrant. He called me the next day, wanting to make up, but I declined and informed him that he had gone too far. He stayed away from the house, apparently sleeping in his painters van or something, then showed up for court to handle a traffic ticket, when a friend of mine, who is a sheriffs officer on guard at the court house, spotted him and arrested him on the spot.

He went to jail.

I packed up his stuff. A week later, out of jail and having to make restitution, he showed up at my door and asked for some things. I gave them to him and some things later to his Mom. I still had a bunch of his stuff. I would not let him live there anymore, and I found out later that he was not supposed to be around me anyhow by order of the courts.

I got two payments from him of $14 on the $200 he owed me, then he got in trouble and went back to jail. I was asked by the court if I minded if instead of jail that he went to a treatment program and I said fine. I don’t think he made it because the repayments, ordered by the court, stopped and he just vanished. I lived at the house for 2 more years and never heard from him again, so I threw most of his stuff out and moved.

I do not rent rooms to anyone anymore.

23

No, I didn’t make the concert, but it was okay since it was put off for a day.

Of course, I had to have my tux dry-cleaned to get the stench of Fred out of it.

Ahhhhhhh…bright college days.

24

If you change your mind, can I rent a room from you? I’ll be a good tenant, though I’ll need room for my indoor pistol range.

25

Easy.

Manuel Pardo

We were both USN Aircrew (P-3 Orions) back in the mid/late 70’s. Manny was a pretty good kid but had some views of his future that were to (who’d have ever thunk?) foretell his eventual situation. On at least one occassion on deployment to Sigonella Sicily, he related his desired goal was to kill off “dope dealing n…” in his area of Miami.

Manny finished his 4 year tour, then spent some time with the Fla Highway Patrol and eventually ended up on a south Florida police force. He apparently followed through with more than a handful off shootings.

He now is a resident of Florida death row. I forget the link, but you can find his picture with a little hunting. My guess is he has just recently declared for retarded status.

Next time your roomie borrows a shirt, don’t get your panties in too big of a wad. You just never know.

26

Incredibly clueless idiot speaking up-what does a roach have to do with an ashtray and potheads?

27

A roach is the butt of a joint.

28

Omnivore-that’s really sad.

29

OH!!! I thought you meant an actual cockroach.

I guess I’m as dumb as that chick. Damn!

:smiley:

30

A roach is slang for the dogend of a joint.

31

’Uigi,

I just looked up Pardo in my library or serial killer books. Convicted of killing 9 people between January and May of 1986.

“Instead of nine, I wish I could have been up here for 99. I enjoyed what I was doing. I enjoyed shooting them.”

yeek! :eek:

32

“Brad” had OCD, and couldn’t stand to touch things that others had touched if he could help it at all. I once put his mail in his room on the floor and was informed by his brother that I had really screwed up. Now the mail was contaminated, and it would be an enormous process to open it.

Once he stopped his Prozac, or had some weird drug interaction or something (I was out of town), and became convinced that there were Satanists on the block that were trying to kill everyone in the house. He started pulling his stuff onto the lawn so that if the house got blown up, it might survive. He gave away his brother’s cat so it would be safe. When he demanded to know where some of the guys were going so he could take the kitchen knife and save them from having their minds zapped in the movie theater so they could be killed, he ended up in the USC mental hospital for a couple weeks.

He was convinced that because of his condition, no woman would have him, and developed some real self-hate issues. I can relate to some extent, but I’d never had someone cut themselves repeatedly.

What’s a bit ironic is that he may be the smartest person I’ve every known on a personal level. He could read Latin pretty darn fluently, and could bang out a letter for you that at least would get the point across in about 8 languages. He said at one point he had known the Egyptian pharohs in order.

He found a woman that would have him, and got married. I assume they’re doing well. He teaches English to adult immigrants, which he should be incredibly prepared for.

33

I almost had one room mate from hell who did not like the room I had for rent and chose, luckily, not to take it. He was a young guy from my brothers job who needed a place to stay. Later on, my brother told me that it was a good thing that I had not rented to him because he joined one of these white power groups and became a real nut case about it all.

34

My two roommates from hell. I was desparate and took them at nearly the last moment before the new lease began. One was legally blind and wore thick glasses. He claimed that he had just graduated from college and was looking for work. Within a few weeks of his moving in, I got a notice from my telephone company that more than $500 in charges had been made on my line since my last bill. All the calls were to phone sex lines. When I confronted him with this, he apologized and said he would pay me back. But that wasn’t the worst. As it turned out, those $500 in calls were made within the first week of his moving in. By the time the month had ended, over $3000 in phone sex calls had been on my line.

I had dial-1 long distance service blocked from my telephone line at that point, and he was never bright enough to figure out how to override that. But as I learned later, he regularly kept trying to call the porn lines in the hope that somehow he would get through. With my luck going as bad as it was, four months later my line got “slammed” by a long distance carrier, which is the unauthorized addition or change in long distance carriers. My roommate who had been persistantly hoping for this day, quickly resumed calling the phone sex lines and rang up another few hundred dollars in calls before I cought him. I was furious at him because he had not paid a cent even on the first group of calls. I wanted to kick him ought right then and there, but a lawyer I consulted said that as a joint roommate I did not have that power unless I was under physical danger to myself or my proprerty. So I took my roommate to court and won a judgement against him. Not that it did any good, because he never did get a job and lived off his monthly SSI checks, which cannot be garnished. I also sued the long distance carrier that slammed me; they settled out of court by refunding all of the charges from the second group of calls, which still left me with $3000 in charges from the first group. I also found out that he had never even attended college.

That was one of my roommates. The other roommate, who had been sympathetic to my plight with the first roommate, eventually dropped out of school, lost his job, and couldn’t make the rent. And I discovered he was downloading child pornography from the Internet onto his computer over a shared ISP account that was in my name, paid for by my credit card, over the phone line in my name. I ended up taking him to court too, for nonpayment of rent. What a year from hell.

35

If this is a contest, I think Walloon won.

36

College Roomies From Hell! Read from the beginning :smiley:

37

Hmmm…I don’t think I can top Wallis or Omnivore, but I’ve my share of mental cases.

I had two roommates in a 3 BR apt. Pat was supposed to be going to school at the time, but he stopped going to classes and just watched TV all day. He started collecting weapons like Japanese swords and serrated knives, but instead of hanging them up or putting them in a display case, he’d leave them on chairs, couches and all over the floor. Me and the other roommate finally picked up all his shit and put it on his bed. He slept on the couch for a month after that.

Finally, he cleaned up his room. In the process, he shaved his head, shaved his beard down to a Fu Manchu mustache, and painted his room to have all sorts of war scenes and decapitated limbs and crap like that. On his door, he put in big black letters HEADQUARTERS WARRIORS but left out the R so that it was just HEADQUATERS. I ribbed him about it and the next day his room and door were just plain white again.

Another time I roomed with psycho twins, Jim and John. John tried to convince me that he and Jim should be thought of as one person, so they should only pay half rent instead of two thirds. Jim was a left wing paranoid who was convinced that a neighbor emptying garbage at the dumpster was stalking him. He also started sleeping on the couch in the buff. When I’d come downstairs to eat breakfast, first thing I’d see was his naked bubble butt sticking 10 feet up in the air. I’d clap real hard to wake him up so that he’d get embarassed and pull a sheet over him. After I moved out, a bird got in the house and flew under his bed and eventually died. He put up with the smell for months somehow.

38

Who is Wallis?:confused:

39

He wasn’t quite as scary as some of the above housemates. But: We had a housemate we called, “The Robe” because he never seemed to take off his robe. You never saw him in street clothes, or PJs or anything. He lined the walls of his room with maps-but you couldn’t read any of them because they were “partials” and overlapped e.o. He also replaced all the lights in his room with red lights. They would glow under the door. He spent all of his time in the living room (unless he had some weed-then he hid in his room until it was gone and then he would head back to the living room in hopes for someone else to smoke him out) He rarely showered. He told the landlord that I kicked holes in the wall. (in reality we were trying to climb up the wall in the hall…using feet and butts. It was a butt-mark-hole and it was friggin’ Pete anyway! Liar)

He also had the meanest parrot I have ever met.

I am very glad to see no one has told any stories about me.

40

Hmmm… which was worse?

  1. The roommate in Dallas that would come home every night from work with a case of Coors Light, lay on the sofa in his underwear and drink the entire case, pass out, and then either urinate himself (and the underlaying sofa) OR get up long enough to stagger into the KITCHEN to pee in the 'fridge.

  2. The coked-up, ex-Army boxer from Pecos who tried to kill me.

or

  1. The asshole from Maine that would try to impress strangers he’d just met by bringing them by, telling them that me and the other roommate could get them high. “What are you talking about, John? We don’t get high.”

Ahh… Meeeeemories!