Worst Houseguest/Trip You Taken?

I met a lady in a chatroom about two years ago. We went from the chatroom to icq, the the telephone. We have a lot in common and she doesn’t make friends easily and I do so we hit it off. She’s never been to my state so of course we plan a trip for her to come here, and I would go there in the fall. She is from New Hampshire. At any rate the week before she is supposed to come I end up in the hospital with pnemonia. I get out on Friday, the same day she is scheduled to arrive. I have no flight number, no time, no nothing on when she is supposed to arrive. But I did get a message on my machine that she is still coming. I have no futher word from her until Sunday. She has landed at another airport a state above me…and she’s staying with some guy she met on icq. This throws me in a panic. As it ends up…on Thursday I drive 5 hours to pick her up from this guy’s house…and 5 hours back. When we arrive at my house she proceeds to spend the next 4 days on the computer…coming out every three or four hours for air. Needless to say she won’t get an invitation to come back, although she has already hinted at it, and I won’t be going there. Has anyone else had this kind of experience? The time she wasn’t on the computer…she was on the telephone. I couldn’t get her to the airport fast enough.

“Do or do not, there is no try” - Yoda

I hate when people come to my house and drink all the booze!
That’s about it. I don’t invite strangers over.

“Let me fall out of the window with confetti in my hair…”
Tom Waits

A bad houseguest? Considering I practically live in a hotel (there’s always someone crashing at our house), I have a million stories. The most recent bad one? (shudder)

On a weekday evening about a month ago, my roommate (Kristofer, aka Krissy) and I were quietly playing dominoes and drinking beer. The phone rings and it’s Krissy’s parents (they live in the 'burbs). They tell Krissy, “There’s a guy from Latvia who has been living at JFK airport for the last four days. He doesn’t know anyone and doesn’t have any money. Go pick him up and we’ll find out a place where he can stay.”

So I’m picturing this 18 year old moron who can’t read a map but decided to “backpack through America” or something, right? WRONG.

We arrive at the airport. The guy turns out to be this 50 year old SUPER STINKY gross man with 8 pieces of incredibly heavy luggage and 16 fishing poles.

This guy smelled soooooooo bad that I had to unroll all of the windows to breathe. He also turned out to be a real asshole.

First he complained about my driving. Sorry, pal, cars and roads in America are fast. Next, he asked what Kris and I did. He found out Kris was a student (ignored him), and when he found out I had a job, honed in on me.

He asked me to buy him a pack of cigarettes. Then he (Stinky) asked me for money. I said, “You came to America without any money?”
He replied, “Well, I’m going to get a job.”
I asked, “You have a Green Card?”
“How long is your Visa good for?”
“Six months.”
“How long are you planning to stay?” (Eyeing his baggage)
He said, “Ten years.”

I was laughing right at him.

“Oh, and what kind of work do you do?”
“I’m an architect.”
“You need to have a license for that here.”
He refused to listen (probably because I’m a woman) and told me that he’s very famous and talented. Yeah, right, buddy, Soviet architecture is really popular over here. He also got very angry when I told him that he might have trouble getting a job here.

Oh, did I mention he bought a ONE WAY plane ticket? I want to know how he got past Customs.

Anyway, so we get home. I buy him a pack of cigarettes while Krissy calls his parents. When I get back, Krissy is telling him, “You can stay here tonight and I’ll give you keys tomorrow while Mel’s at work and I’m at school.” I look at Kris and I’m giving him an extremely evil eye and motioning for him to go to his room.

I seethe, “That man is NOT staying here. We are kids and cannot take care of him. Give him a towel and some deoderant, NOW. He better be out of here by the time I get back from work, etc”. I was FURIOUS, especially because I am well educated in the reputations and thoughts of Latvians from Latvia. Let’s put it this way: Dollar bills and Greencards are mighty pretty to them. Theft is not a moral sin when the property belongs to a spoiled American.

When we went into the living room again, the dude was UNPACKING his stuff. I quickly informed him that he would be here for ONE night and not to bother.

I spent the rest of the night in my room booby trapping my favorite things.

When I woke up the next morning, the whole apartment smelled like a bar (he slept in the living room). He had chain smoked the ENTIRE pack and didn’t even crack open a window. When I openend the door to my room, the haze from the smoke was as thick as fog. It was disgusting. I went into the bathroom and took a shower.

After I toweled off, I put on my robe and opened the bathroom door. There he was, standing right there. He was smoking (surprise) and had his button-down shirt completely unbuttoned and was leaning on his outstretched arm over the door. The stench was overpowering. “Make me some coffee, will you?” he asked.

I said, “GOD. I just got out of the shower, give me a minute to get dressed, CHRIST.” And then I slammed the door of my room.

After I got dressed (it took me a very long time) I went to the kitchen. All four burners were raging. He didn’t even know how to work a stove!! I was like, “Are you trying to set this house on fire?” And then I showed him how to make his own damn coffee. This guy was getting dumber by the minute. Then, while I’m showing him modern conveniences, he starts putting his hands on my shoulders, etc. That is IT.

I stormed into Krissy’s room and said, “by the time I get back, he better be GONE.”

Well, of course, when I get back from work, he’s still there. At this point I’m in tears from frustration (I want my living room back) and Krissy knows I am about to have a nervous breakdown. He tells me to leave for awhile and he will somehow get this turkey out.

This is how he did it:
There is a Latvian Veterans home in The Bronx. Krissy’s parents had called them already but were told that there was no room, all filled up. But Krissy took Stinky there anyway.

I’m sure Stinky didn’t like the neighborhood (very poor, crack house right next door). Kris piled all of the luggage on the porch and rang the bell. Kris explained the situation to the Veteran’s house guy and was told that there was no room for Stink.

Stinky turned to Kris and said, “Ok, let’s go back to Brooklyn!” and Kris said, “No way, Jose” and ran back to his car, fired up the engine and zoomed off.


We burned the towel Stinky had used because it smelled so bad.

Later, we found out that Stink had been offered living space and a job with a family. He turned them down because it was “beneath him” to work as a janitor and he didn’t want to live in New Jersey. But he did ask them to buy him a car.

Formerly unknown as “Melanie”

Sweet Jesus, Saxface. You win.

My story’s about a roommate.

Two friends and I shared a house when one of my friends got engaged and moved out. Since he was using two bedrooms, my other roomie and I decided to get two more roommates, charging less for the smaller bedroom. This would lower our rent to $250 each (and $200 for the little bedroom), which is a dream in the DC area.

We got a third with no problem. The fourth was going to be a schoolteacher, but she either didn’t like the location or living with 3 guys so she backed out. At the last minute, my roommate got another woman. Since it was so last minute, we didn’t have time to run a credit check. Things would’ve been different otherwise. :rolleyes:

She had saved up to go to Israel, and was just going to save up money from her new job at a cable network channel. But within a week, she lost it. (She says it was because she rightfully complained about the smoke-filled environment [this is before no-smoking in office laws came about]. I think it was just her personality.)

(An important part of this story: I collected all the money from the roommates for rent & utilities. I also moonlighted delivering pizza.)

For three months, she lived off her savings, so I had no complaints. When she used long distance, she’d ask the callee to call her back (this was also before 10 cent/min collect calls). But then she ran out of money. She didn’t pay her 4th month’s rent until the 3rd week of it, so I had to cover her. I also covered her share of the utilities. She got some temporary job and caught up on bills. But then the 5th month, she did the same thing. :frowning:

I asked her about her prospects, and she started bitching to me that she hadn’t eaten in days and didn’t have gas money to go out and look. I almost exploded then, as most of my extra income was going to support her share of bills.

At the beginning of the sixth month, I gave her a letter stating that I didn’t like her “cavalier” attitude toward paying her way, and that if things weren’t settled by the end of the month, I’d ask her to leave.

During the last couple of months of her stay, I noticed that my modem would drop calls quite often. Sometimes it was just a roommate picking up the phone; the rest I attributed to line noise. Then once I saw my first roommate talking on the phone, then use the hook to answer a call-waiting call. But I hadn’t ordered call-waiting because of my computer work. I found out that she’d ordered it! I quickly cancelled it and had a password attached to my account (that stuck for years after she was gone). I also wrote her another letter, saying I wanted her out now.

She had landed a job (finally) at a local pawn shop, working the check cashing window. She was able to move out quickly, as my first roommate and I packed up her dozens of boxes of junk. (Her room looked like a pack rat’s nest.) By this time, she owed me $500 in back bills. I kept her (nice) camera as collateral, much to her dismay.

Well, two weeks later, I hadn’t heard word one from her about repaying me. I went to her new abode, and was told by her landlord that she kicked her out, and that she’d moved back west to where she grew up. The now ex-landlord said she didn’t like her packrat room (as she thought it would attract vermin :rolleyes: ), and that she “took over” the kitchen, stocking it with her stuff even though her lease was for the bedroom only.

I also found out that she’d been fired from the pawnshop. The check cashiers’ room that she worked in was locked during open operation for security reasons. Two days in a row large sums of money were unaccounted for at the end of her shift. Since she was the only one in contact with the money, she was booted.

I never did get my money back from her. I tried to pawn the camera, but they’d only give me $50 for it. I ended up giving it to my sister as a Xmas gift.

Judges 14:9 - So [Samson] scraped the honey into his hands and went on, eating as he went. When he came to his father and mother, he gave some to them and they ate it; but he did not tell them that he had scraped the honey out of the body of the lion.

Wow fuzzy! What an incredibly coincidental experience! I know of someone, from the same exact same state as you are in, who has a teenage son, and with the very same r/l initials as you have… and what is truly amazing is…she had exactly the same experience with a house guest. Right down to the pneumonia thing. Are you sure we haven’t met in say…one of those chat rooms you hardly go to?

I really try to be good but it just isn’t in my nature!

Geesh PCW I don’t think so…I checked your profile and I don’t know you. Do you go to Yahoo any? Is it important to you to prove you know me for some reason? I’m sure that plenty of people have a teenage son and have at one time or another had pneumonia. What’s the deal with the initials? I can assure you that I haven’t used my real name on any online experiences.
I haven’t really exchanged that many posts with you before…you aren’t a stalker are you? or have I offended you? I’ll check back through the threads…but I’m sure that I haven’t trashed you…I don’t even know you. What’s on your mind?

“Do or do not, there is no try” - Yoda

I moved to Colorado from Michigan in part to escape from a boyfriend who dumped me. You know the story - girl meets boy, girl falls head over heels over boy, boy is a dick, boy stops calling, girl moves across the country to ease the pain. We’ll call this guy Tom. My good friend at the time was another guy, we’ll call him Ray. Ray & Tom were good friends since childhood (hey, it’s a small town). Ray was going to college in another state. I offered to pay for his ticket home for the summer, as I was working and he was a poor college student. At the time, he told me that was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him.

So Ray’s back in town, and Tom had painfully dumped me. Ray meets girl, we’ll call her Carrie. Ray and Carrie start to date. At the end of the summer, Ray goes back to school, Carrie is all mopey and missing him, I’m all mopey because Tom is being a jerk about dumping me - y’know, the whole thing where he just won’t say “I don’t want to see you anymore.” He just shows up sometimes and is nice, then doesn’t call for 2 weeks. I’m starting to hate him, big time. Carrie and I decide to move to Colorado. We do.

Within a week of moving out here, Carrie starts making long distance phone calls to Ray. Every night. For hours. This starts to bug me, because not only do I not know a soul in town, but even if I did they couldn’t get in contact with me cuz the phone was ALWAYS busy. Luckily, the phone bill was in her name - I believe she wracked up over $1000 in calls. Ray comes out to visit us for Thanksgiving. By that time, we had some friends, and invited about 5 people over for Thanksgiving dinner. Before dinner was even over, Ray and Carrie go to her bedroom, which is right off the living room, and start having sex. Loudly. Me and all my guests look at each other. It was incredibly uncomfortable.

Fast forward to Christmas. Ray comes out to visit again. They start doing lots and lots of stuff together, none of which I’m invited to participate in. Now, I know they’ll want and need time alone, but I’m saying that this guy was my best friend for years, and all of a sudden I’m in a new state where I don’t know hardly anyone, and I’m not even invited to go out for a beer with them every couple weeks or so. Ray decides not to go back to school, and moves in with us. Ray and Carrie proceed to make me feel like I’m unwanted in my own house - ie, I come home, they’re necking on the couch, or in the common bathroom having loud sex. When I ask them to please not have sex in the bathroom when I’m around, they tell me I’m being irrational. When I try to smooth things over and suggest we all be friends and maybe occasionally do stuff together, they flat out say “we’re not interested.”

To top things off, I come home one day to find Tom in the apartment. He had gotten a job at a ski resort about 2 hours away, and he started to spend weekends at our house. Seeing as he was part of the reason I moved 1400 miles away from my hometown, I was not too happy about this. About a month after this started, he showed up one day and didn’t leave. After a couple weeks of this, I confronted Ray and Carrie, and sure enough, they had invited him to move in with us without mentioning it to me. That was it, and I ended up moving out within a week or two.

'course, through all of this, Carrie didn’t pay many of her bills. Luckily, my landlord understood that it was HER bill, not mine, and I wasn’t stuck with anything. They also managed to kill a toilet, and had to pay to get it replaced. I don’t even want to know how that happened.

Miraculously, I’m still friends with Ray and Tom. It took several years, but we now speak on an occasional basis. But boy oh boy, I never hated anyone like I hated these two for a while.

Me a stalker… hardly… I am too upfront for that. Thought I would ask tho since you have posted about honesty, ppl who pretend friendship and have had a sig line that said you want to know something about me, ask me not my friends. Just thought maybe I had met you in sony chat under the name Victoria42 or mplayer as Ultress. My name there is PirateLady as my email in my profile says. I guess I found the coincidences a bit too incredible to let pass.

I really try to be good but it just isn’t in my nature!

hmmmm I see. Well I’m glad that you finally came out and asked. This is the seond time you have questioned me and I hope the last. I believe in honesty. I do not post under any name but fuzzy. But at any rate…hope your curiosity is satisfied. I checked back through the threads and couldn’t find anything that would make me stand out to you any more that anyone else. I guess if you look long and hard enough you can find things about anyone that looks familar.
This is really rather silly as it shouldn’t make any difference to you one way or the other who or what I am. I post for thoughts, opinions and fun…not to hurt or discredit people. I would consider this subject childish and closed…it’s wasting space.

“Do or do not, there is no try” - Yoda

Sorry guys that you had to read through all this…it has nothing to do with the thread…hope you keep on posting to it…it’s fun to see your stories.

“Do or do not, there is no try” - Yoda

This happened a couple of years ago. My roommate’s friend Rene got transferred to San Francisco. He and I had always gotten along pretty well, and he knew I love road trips, so he asked me if I wanted to drive out there with him. The deal was that we’d split costs on the way out, but that I’d get to stay at his apartment out there for a few days and get to see SF for the first time.

I didn’t have a lot of time to plan for the trip - less than a week- but every day something weird came up. First he was going to rent a car since he didn’t have one, then he wanted to drive mine out there, and then finally he tells me that we’re going to drive his girlfriend’s car. Fine. He and the girlfriend had broken up over the move, but at the last minute she decided that she was going to move to SF too, and that the apartment this guy had gotten wasn’t going to do. When we left Chicago we didn’t even know where we were going to go once we got to San Francisco.

Since it was January, I didn’t want to drive across Iowa and Nebraska and Wyoming, etc. I found a more southern route where we could avoid all of the snow online, and showed it to Rene. He decided that it would take 12 hours too long, and he REALLY wanted to get to his new place. I couldn’t convince him that we’d be better off taking the extra time just to avoid bad weather.

The day of the trip arrived, and he showed up 2 or 3 hours late w/o calling, so that was nice. He was driving the girlfriend’s car, which he had neglected to tell me was this teeny tiny Saab that was just crammed full of his stuff. The passenger seat was as close as it could get to the front of the car, w/ no room to move it back. He decided after we set out that he was going to drive the whole way because it was his girlfriend’s car, so I was STUCK in that seat the whole way. FIIIIIINE. I was getting annoyed, but figured it’d be worth it when we got to SF and I had a free place to stay.

So then, we’re on the road for about 3 hours before the GF calls on her car phone to see how we were doing. Rene had only had his license for a week or something (yes, THIS was the guy that was driving the whole way) and couldn’t concentrate on driving and talking, so I got to answer the phone not just that time, but every 3 or 4 hours for the rest of the way. The girlfriend called “to see how we were” at least 6 times a day. I’m not exaggerating. She also called to inform us that she had found a better apartment, and that we had to find a place where Rene could fax over his info for the credit check. Just the thing when you’re in the middle of nowhere.

The second or third day of the trip we stopped in Cheyanne, WY to find a Kinko’s where he’d be able to fax his info and I’d be able to check my email. We got lost in Cheyanne and this little detour added a couple of hours to the trip, and since it was already dark and getting late, we decided to only drive a few more hours and then stop for the night. We got onto the highway and drove for a few more hours, and we were in the middle of nowhere when we hit a patch of ice and flew into a ditch on the side of the road. Flew. We were literally airborne. And then, we were stuck. Rene decided that we couldn’t call the police because his girlfriend would be mad that he put her car in a ditch, so he called a towing company and told them where he thought we were. We sat there w/ the car off for a couple of HOURS, because he was afraid that the car had been damaged when we flew off the road, when he let me call the towing company again to see if they were coming.They said that that were still looking for us, so we kept waiting. Another hour passed, and I was increasingly willing to kill him, when I called again. The towing company asked us AGAIN where we were, and when I told them they said, “Oh, we don’t go that far. But we already called the state troopers.” So, we got to sit there and wait for the state troopers to show up. They finally came and got us out of the ditch. At this point, we’d been sitting in this car w/ the engine off for upwards of four hours, and we got on the road and looked for a hotel. We got to one at about 4 am, and Rene decided we had to be up at 8 because otherwise his GF would try to reach up and GOD FORBID she got mad at him for sleeping in. Are you realizing that this guy was whipped? Yeah, so was I.

So, ok, we got four hours of sleep and got to start driving again. At this point I was hating Rene, and the only thing that kept me from stabbing him in the neck was the fact that I was going to stay in his apartment. The rest of the trip blew just as much, and the weather sucked until we got into Nevada. The only fun we had was the afternoon we spent in Reno, but Rene didn’t want to stay TOO long because the GF would know, or something.

When we got into northern CA, it started pouring rain, and we were driving on these scary mountain roads. I had no faith in this guy’s driving abilities at this point, so I was pretty much expecting to die. We didn’t, obviously, and because we were in the middle of nowhere, we got a brief respite from the GF’s phone calls. We made it to a hotel somewhere and decided to stop 'cause the weather was too bad, even though we were only about 3 hours away from SF. So, we check in, and he calls his GF to let her know we’re ok. Well, she LOSES her mind because she hasn’t been able to reach us for a few hours. They start fighting on the phone, and he asks me leave the hotel room so they can talk. So I got to go stand outside in the pouring rain and smoke for a half hour or so while he talked to her. He finally came out and asked if I wanted to go get something to eat, so we found a Denny’s. We ate, and after we finished eating he told me that the GF had broken up w/ him because she thought we were sleeping together (in case it isn’t obvious, we were NOT!), but decided to take him back on one condition. She suddenly didn’t feel comfortable with me staying in HER apartment when we got to SF. My plane ticket home wasn’t for 3 or 4 days after we got there, so I didn’t know what I was going to do.

The next day we got to his new place, I helped him move his stuff in, and then I tried to move my plane ticket up. They weren’t willing to change it to that day for less than a grand or so, so I then tried to find a place to stay. There was some convention in town, so I couldn’t find a hotel in town for less than $400. I pleaded w/ Rene to try to talk some sense into his GF, but he wouldn’t because he thought she’d break up with him again. I finally found a hotel near the airport that was only about $100, and I was able to get my flight changed to the next day for another $100 or so. He drove me out to the hotel, dropped me off, and didn’t even have the decency to apologize .

I haven’t spoken to the guy since.

“I’ll tell you a secret, baby - maybe you can’t do better - gotta settle for second best” - the Judybats

Yikes! So sorry to have hit a nerve. Consider the subject dropped altho you did ask what was on my mind, so I thought you wanted an answer. Next time I will walk a little more softly on those eggshells.

I really try to be good but it just isn’t in my nature!

boyoboy, what is it w/ weird guests? you all have had some corkers. mine was mild compared to these, but this is it:

my daughter & her girlfriend rachel came to visit. rachel slept in the den (on my flip-out couch) & every time i picked up the phone she was on it, making local calls, calls back to illinois, whatever. when she wasn’t on the phone, she was reading from my library. not so bad, except she was one of those who didn’t use a bookmark, left the books face down everywhere, including tangled up in the blankets & under the furniture.

also, both of them threw clothes everywhere, literally, for 3 days. every room in the house on both floors had their clothes. i had to work hard at dissuading my daughter from just unpacking in the living room.

then rachel developed hives every time she got out in the sun. i live in phoenix fercrineoutloud & it was april.

rachel also couldn’t/wouldn’t eat anything in the house, so i gave them a charge card to go get whatever they would eat. they came back w/ stuff like $1 half pints of flavored imported spring water & stocked up on shampoo & toothpaste for themselves (both bathrooms already had ample supplies). they also bought a bunch of stuff i wouldn’t ordinarilly eat because they were going to cook. they never lifted a finger & i was left w/ everything (took back the toothpaste & shampoo!).

they had intended to stay about 10 days but left in a huff after 3 because i was so rude to them. sure was. i told them to pick up their damn stuff. maid service was out of order. even offered to drive them to any motel they thought they could afford.

i love my kid, but the princess act left me wanting to wring her cute little neck.

Mine is quite mild in comparison, too, but it makes me laugh to think about it (in retrospect.)

My sister-in-law came to visit us when we were living in Oakland, CA. It was just before Christmas, and one day, when my husband and I came home from work, we discovered that she had gone into the kitchen cabinets and helped herself to my baking supplies. Well, okay–at least we had a lot of Christmas cookies, now…but no. “Don’t eat any of those!” she tells us. “I made them as presents for my friends.”

This is the same person who, on the occasion of her third marriage, at forty years old, informed us (two graduate students) that, as our wedding present we could pay for the photography. Uh, thanks for the idea, Sal, here’s a check for fifty bucks. Mazel tov.

Wow! I’m an amateur compared to you guys! A friend from my home town came to visit me for a weekend and ended up staying there for a couple of months. My room mate hated it, but I didn’t think it was any big deal. He slept on the sofa. While he never helped with the rent, I didn’t have to buy him food or anything either. I might have had to pay for long distance call or two.

Now for the part that is NONE of my business. Fuzzy… you seem very defensive. It didn’t seem like PCW was attacking you at all, in fact it seemed the other way around… (see “I guess if you look long and hard enough you can find things about anyone that looks familar.”)

…ok, I’m holding on, waiting for the flaming!


well, mine isn’t terrible, but it really annoyed me at the time. I invited a friend of mine to spend a couple of weeks at a beautiful beach resort in Mexico her stay was free, she took care of the rest). The first day we are there, I ask her what she wants to do. Swim in the ocean? “Ugh! I don’t swim in oceans, they’re so dirty!” Ok, swim in the pool? “Gross, why would I want to get in a pool? They’re filthy!” Allright, want to sit outside, get a little sun, enjoy the atmosphere? “Are you kidding? I can’t be outside! I’ll get frecles!” WHAT!!! We were in the tropics! What did she expect we were going to do? Of all the people I could have invited, I was stuck with her.

While my ex-wife and I were still in college, we decided that we should go see her parents in Poland. Problem: We’ve got these two adorable cats, Boo and Rudy, that need to be taken care of. There’s no way we can afford to board them because our trip will be for the whole summer quarter. Because we’re in married student housing, we can keep the apartment for one quarter while we are not attending the university. Solution: We know this couple (not particularly responsible - should have clued us in) who know this guy, Brian Johnson who lives in Pensacola Florida (he might have moved to Sarasota by now) and has MD so he can’t walk right, who only needed one more quarter in school to graduate. His problem: No money. He can’t afford tuition and rent at the same time. Solution: We all agreed that he could stay at our place while we were gone for free. His only contribution would be the daily care and feeding of the cute and fuzzy rat-like creatures.

We leave for eight weeks.

We return on a Thurday, the day before graduation, and the apartment is completely trashed. Broken windows, our clothes piled in the closet with cat shit and puke all over them under empty beer boxes, every dish in the kitchen (and the rest of the place for that matter) was covered with thick green fungus, my 30 year old raw wood buffet had plants sitting on it where he had obviously spilled water when watering them and not even attempted to wipe up the spill - and this must have been when he first moved in because all of the plants were dead when we got there - can you say water stain? Still there today. The bulbs in the permanent fixtures 6 ft off the floor were broken. The worst thing was the mildew. I don’t know how familiar anyone is with the climate of LA (lower Alabama), but it’s damn humid. To save money, he didn’t run the air conditioner for the whole summer. When we came in, the walls were black. No exaggeration. Oh, I almost forgot, I had a jar full of change. He stole it. I don’t know how much was in it, but it was over $100 and that’s a lot of money for a college student (as you may already know.) He took the money to finance his trip to the KISS concert over in Mississsiipppppi(sp? ask Alice at Mel’s diner).

We made him stay up all night and clean the apartment even though he was graduating the next day. Then we made sure he came back after graduation and cleaned some more. When he did, I took his distributor cable. The Ex and I went to lunch for about an hour. When we came back, all of his stuff was in his car, but he was nowhere to be found. 1/2 hour later the Cheif of Campus Police knocks on the door with Brian Johnson, that’s his name BRIAN JOHNSON, in tow. We run through the whole thing again with the cheif (we had called him over the previous day to see the disaster area.) The Ex at this point has a very large knife in her had and I honestly believe she might have used it if I hadn’t asked her to put it down and step off. I’m not even kidding. Did I mention that she’s Polish. Eastern European tempers are as bad as the Italiano. Moving right along, I had to give his distributor cable back to him and let him go.

Then we sued him and made him have to come back to court where we were (a 3 hour drive for him) at 9:00 am. On the appointed day, just before court Brian Johnson’s father was attempting to be diplomatic and asked if we couldn’t resolve the issue outside of the courtroom. At this point he had already hired a lawyer and attempted some tricky stuff like an attempt at change-of-venue down to Pensacola, that’s where he is from and where he may be today. We weren’t in for that and got it thrown out. So anyways, I told he could take his reasonability and shove it up his GD (not great debates) A-hole. He gave up.

So we go to court and have all these pictures and the cheif was even there as an eyewitness (who happened to be a real good friend of the judge - funny how things work out.) Moving right along, during the whole thing I’m cracking smart-ass remarks on Brian Johnson and to my surprise, the cheif and the judge get in on the action. Ya’ shoulda’ seen it. We were awarded most of what we asked for.

The really worst part about it is that we had spent two days BEFORE we left cleaning the place to a spotless shine. When we got back we had to spent 3 days just to get it back to being liveable. We did not unpack until Sunday. We stayed Thursday and Friday at friends.
I’ve got another story, but I’ll just cut to the moral. NEVER let your sister-in-law near the curry.

Everything looks better in black and white – Paul Simon

Well at least you admit you’re being childish. What the heck is your problem?

Teeming Millions: http://fathom.org/teemingmillions
“Meat flaps, yellow!” - DrainBead, naked co-ed Twister chat
O p a l C a t

oh, inertia’s story reminded me of another one.

we were married about a year & had a really great apartment in chicago. we were going to go to florida for the winter because of my then-husband’s job. we found that a long-time friend was looking for a place to live & asked if he would like to stay at our place while we were gone, meaning we wouldn’t be paying 2 rents, would be able to keep the chicago place, & do him a favor before he would have to do some serious apartment hunting.

we left the place furnished & he covered the rent & utilities until we returned 4 months later. we had even let him know about a wk in advance when we would be returning. nonetheless, the place was a pigsty! i don’t think he had done more than take out the trash occasionally in 4 months. it was like i wanted to have the place fumigated it was so filthy.

i had known this friend since 3rd grade & my ex knew him from high school, but i would have strangled him for trashing my lovely home if he had been around when we returned.

btw, i can understand fuzzy’s nervous reaction to pcw’s comments. it’s sometimes hard to tell what anyone’s intention or attitude is in posts, if they’re being sarcastic, ironic, innocent, whatever. & people use screen names because they would rather stay anonymous. someone asking pointed questions could be unnerving, especially if there hadn’t been any previous interchange.

as for fuzzy’s story, the story about my kid’s friend rachel had several similarities to fuzzy’s story about her houseguest. why doncha cut her a little slack?