Alt title: “Finally, a **Chessic Sense **pitting that will stay in the Pit!”
I told you fucking tenants a month ago that you were to be out of my house by March 1 so that I could put it on the market. You’d think over 30 days you’d get at least SOME of your shit together. But no, you just kept building on the squalor that you’d turned my beautiful home into.
I walk in to find the place absolutely trashed. You hadn’t bought a stick of furniture since I moved a year ago, so you figured it’d be cool to put (and leave) your pizza on the floor. Now there’s a permanent stain there. I also really enjoyed cleaning up your spoiling milk bottles left strewn in various places around the house. In your bedroom closet? Seriously?
Way to not take out the trash in two months. You left me with 10 bags of garbage stacked up in the basement. And that’s not counting the 4 you had in the kitchen itself, stacked up in a little pyramid against the wall.
Speaking of the basement, if you’re going to have a party, you should at LEAST dump out the left-over beer. You realize there was actual mold growing on the surface of the beer down there, right? And it’s really pathetic to shrug at me and go “It’s only been there a week!”
And how do you even USE that bathroom?! You haven’t cleaned it in months! The toilets (in both bathrooms) had shit stains caking the inside. They were covered in hair. Mold was growing in colors I’d never SEEN before on a toilet. The upstairs one even still had the VOMIT STAINS on the floor that I saw in December!
The shower hadn’t been cleaned in the entire 9 months you’d all been living here. This went beyond dirty. It wasn’t just the grout that was pitch black, but the ACTUAL SLIDING GLASS DOOR!! And I haven’t even mentioned the hair that covered the floor, sinks, soap, mirror, and shelves.
Did you even think about taking off your shoes in my house? After a professional steam cleaning, there was STILL a visible dirt trail going across the living room and down the hallway. And those guys were even able to get out the stain from the chimney soot. 50-yr-old charcoal? No problem for the steam cleaning. Your shoes in the house? Defeat. And can anyone explain how we found crisp leaves in the corners? You haven’t vacuumed since FALL?!?! And thanks for grinding gum into my carpets and hardwood floors. I spent a half hour on my knees prying that up with a paint scraper. Assholes.
To my “friend”: I let you stay there, at half the rent I normally charge, because you’re my oldest friend. We grew up from toddlers together. But somehow you managed to just toss that all out the window. Not only did you stiff me on the last rent, but you’ll probably stiff me on the utility bills that are coming due for February. I told you you’re not allowed to smoke in the house. But not only did YOU smoke, but you let your burnout FRIENDS smoke inside! Now your room smells like an ashtray. Your windows are caked with soot. The nice white windown blinds? Yellow. The grey “marble” window sills? Black. Literally. I couldn’t even see the marble, there was so much ash. Oh, and thanks for leaving me your 30-year-old shitty furniture “just in case * wanted it”. That’s like the middle school maneuver where you throw your garbage at someone and say “You touched it last” so they have to clean it up.
You said you’d come back to clean. When the responsible, clean, respectable roommate said “Honestly? That’s never going to happen. He won’t lift a damn finger to help you/us,” I stuck up for you. I said “No, he promised.” You never showed up. You lied to my face. You let ME scrub your shit stains, clean your vomit, wipe down your moldy shower. You’re off my friend list, starting now.
To the Craigslist guy: I had good luck with CL people so far. They were all nice, decent people that I eventually befriended. Not you, you disgusting fat ass. When the realtors came to look at the house again, they couldn’t even go into your room. We opened the door and all gagged from the stench. That lingered all the way down the hallway. If someone that’s never met you, never seen you, and never heard mention of you can open your bedroom door, quickly close it, and go “Wow! How fat is he?!”, you oughta be ashamed.
Saturday - You at least moved your bed. Well, half of it anyway. Then we didn’t see you again til the next day. Unlike my friend, you weren’t at work. You were at your new place doing god-knows what.
Sunday - You showed up for 10 minutes and took a bag of clothes out of the house. “I’ll be right back”. Never showed up again.
Monday - You finally dare to show up and start moving. On March 1. The day you’re supposed to be gone. “Carpet guys are coming at noon. You need to be clear of here by then.” You loaded up your car with ONE load and left permanently.
The carpet guy and I bagged the rest of your shit and tossed it all. I’ve been saving you for last, because you’re so disgusting, the SDMB is going to accuse me of exaggeration where there is none. Pepsi bottle, open on the floor. Moldy cheeseburger in the corner. Motor oil of some kind, spilled in the closet. You clothes still here. Under your clothes? Stacks of dishes. We’re talking at least 2 dishwasher loads, maybe more, of hoarded dishes, complete with rotting food and flies.
And then, to take the cake, I open your crawlspace/attic. Do you remember what you put in there? It was…waaaaaaait for it…7 bags of fast food garbage. We’re talking trash bags with decayed beef paties, pizza, and tacos. Some alien combination of coke and slime spilling out the bottom of the bags. And beside those bags of trash? Pizza boxes. With pizza still in them! Do you know what color pepperoni turns after a month or two in the attic? I do. I didn’t even know they served pizza with pepperoni, sausage, and MAGGOTS. Did I mention this was all in your crawlspace, you sick fuck?
You have until tonight to come back and get your broken-down car off my property or I’m having it towed. But not before I take a sledge to the windshield. And I’m calling your current landlord. Maybe there’s something he can do to break the lease now. Save him the headache.
To the one responsible, always-paid-on-time roommate: OK, so you were a little crazy. And always drunk. But at least you were friendly all the time. Good luck sobering up in your group home. Those two woulda driven me to drink too.