Currently I'm living with El Senor. Before El Senor I lived with Redras who---apologies to any of my other former roommates who may be reading this---was my all-time favorite roommate. She wins the prize.
Nevertheless, it's the bad roommate experiences that drive me to choose to avoid roommate situations and live with brothers. Here, for your enjoyment, is a small collection of roommate stories---from heinous to unbelievable to incomprehensible. I apologize if all of the facts are not correct. I'm trying to be as faithful as possible to the facts that I remember.
My Worst Apartment
I moved in with a friend the summer after my sophomore year. There were four of us in the apartment and the space was incredibly cramped. My bedroom had bunk beds and I was on the bottom bunk (the top bunk was very low). Our air conditioning was broken and my roommate refused to sleep with a window open because the noise prevented her from sleeping. So she would sleep directly under the ceiling fan and I would suffocate on the bottom bunk. In addition to that, my roommates were messy. I decided to conduct an experiment one day---see how long I could not wash other people's dishes before someone finally took the initiative to wash the dishes herself. I waited two weeks while dishes piled up (I started eating out every day so that I knew that I was in no way contributing to the mess). After two weeks, there were dishes on every horizontal surface of the kitchen (stove top and fridge top included) and I finally broke down and cleaned them all. I can't even remember how long it took me. The clincher, though, was when my roommate was letting our tiny bedroom get more and more cluttered with her mess. It got to the point that I could hardly walk in my own room and one day, I got to the bedroom and there, in the middle of my messy, messy bedroom floor, was a used tampon applicator. That same day, I started looking for new housing. I moved out about a month later.
Redras's Roommate
Redras once told a story about a bizarre roommate but I can't remember what the story was because at the very end of the story, she flippantly added, "But then she joined the military and got mono and died."
Scoots (and Poops)
This story has nothing to do with scooting or pooping, but you may remember that Scoots and Poops is El Senor's old roommate's nickname. El Senor and Scoots lived together when they were in Provo, but they originally met in the dorms in Rexburg when they were going to school there. Scoots had a sortof odd roommate who could get upset about strange things. One night, El Senor and his roommate could hear Scoots's roommate yelling from across the hall. Soon after, there was a knock on El Senor's door. Scoots was standing there with his mattress tucked under his arm and announced, "I'm moving in!" What was the cause of Scoots's roommate's tantrum? Well, every day, Scoots was the first person to leave the dorm room so he'd run and pick up the mail. But Scoots's roommate wanted the experience of going to the mailbox and discovering what new mail awaited. (Clearly this was grounds for getting angry.)
Twinners
A good friend of mine---we'll call her "Twin"--- is back from her mission and moved to SLC so we've been spending a little time together. Friday night, we were both wearing black shirts and jeans---I asked her if it bothered her that we were wearing similar outfits. She said no, but that it would have bothered an old roommate of hers. She went on to explain that she and this roommate had a similar fashion sense and would often buy the same or similar clothes. One day Twin showed up to class to see that she and her roommate were wearing a similar outfit. She laughed and said, "Look! We're twinners!" She didn't think much more about it. Over the next little while, she and her roommate would occasionally wear similar outfits. Her roommate would get ready and leave the house before they ever saw each other, so if ever their outfits matched, it was purely coincidence. One day, Twin went home to find her roommate and her roommate's boyfriend at home. When the roommate saw her, she noticed that Twin's hair was curly (Twin does her hair curly, wavy, or straight). Her hair was also curly (though a good six inches shorter than Twin's hair). Suddenly she raged out at Twin, accusing her of always copying her. She yelled and screamed while Twin stood dumbfounded. Finally Twin was able to tell her roommate that if it really bothered her that much that they wore similar outfits and similar hairstyles, all they had to do was talk every morning and arrange what they'd be wearing and how they'd be doing their hair. The roommate continued to yell and scream at Twin as she ran to the bathroom and put her head under the faucet. While drenching her hair, drying her hair, and straightening her hair, she continued to yell at Twin.
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And for all those reasons, my friends, I choose to live with brothers whenever possible. But Redras, dear Redras, the offer is always on the table for you to be my roommate.
10 comments:
This just may take the cake. I had a roommate while living in Provo, who had a boyfriend who happened to hang around quite a bit. The two were always together and I really thought nothing of it other than they were a little weird, whatever. Only after the girl was kicked out of the apartment did I find out she and this guy were actually MARRIED and were just living separately at the time for whatever odd reason. Oh, and she and her "boyfriend" would often dumpster dive for rejected furniture and non-functioning electronics. And bring it home. And let it pile up in the living room. Creepy.
My daughter C recently wrote to me about psycho roommates. I posted that on my blog.
Seems like my daughters have had roommates that were harder to live with than the roommates of my sons.
Amber, a roommate of my daughter liked to let the dirty dishes pile up. If one of the roommates broke down and washed all the dishes, then Amber would invite some friends over for dinner and dirty all of the dishes again. And not wash them.
Once when it was Amber's turn to wash the dishes for an apartment check she gathered up all of the dirty dishes in a sheet and took them to the trunk of her car.
I pity the man that marries a girl like Amber. I guess if he just LOVES to wash dishes it might turn out okay.
I had a roommate who would never take out the trash when the chore wheel lined up for her to take out the trash. So, for a whole week, the trash would pile up. I started reminding her as she was leaving: "Hey, Marci (not her real name, but her real name rhymes with Marci - clever of me, huh?) Could you take the trash out when you leave?" I thought I was being very mature, not complaining about Marci and how icky the trach filled kitchen smelled (that makes is sound like Marci smelled - she didn't, but we had a roommate who did, and you could always tell when she borrowed your clothes), not piling the trash on Marci's bed (my brother's suggestion). Just a little reminder. Marci called an apartment meeting. The only agenda item was to yell (and I mean YELL) at me about how I need to shut up about the trash. I was surprised that no one said, "But, Marce, could you just take the trash out?" They just watched her yell at me and apologized later. Except the smelly one. She never apologized. And THAT is just one of the reasons I married a man.
Yeah, I was just noticing that all the "psycho" roommates have been females. In fact, a general theme among comments and this post itself lend to the conclusion that it's better to live with a guy than with girls.
So, basically, I have nothing to look forward to?
For all you fellows out there (I know there are loads of you) whose first thought when you wake up each morning is, "Short of being adopted into the Cicada family, what on earth can I do to make Cicada love me and want to be my roommate FOREVER?" let me teach you my secrets. First, do the dishes every few days. Second, keep the freezer stocked with popsicles (She favors lime but isn't picky). It's really that simple to trick her into liking you. In fact, these two easy acts will make up for lots of other shortcomings, like always falling asleep with the light on, being generally messy and frequently farty and whiny, compulsively channel surfing, listening to the radio in the car, having road rage, breaking her plates, constantly borrowing her computer without asking, telling lots of pointless stories, and writing 'him' when you mean 'hymn.' Best of luck. May the best man win.
I had an unemployed, unenrolled roommate who spent most of his days surfing singlesaints.com and other singles websites. We would occasionally create fake profiles and chat with him as if we were a girl online. Sometimes we would even do this while sitting in the computer next to him. One time he didn't even figure it out when we started describing the clothes he was wearing.
Basically, I feel like a horrible person.
Oh, one more thing. I had a married roommate once, too. Sadly, it took my roommates and I two monthes to notice the wedding ring on his finger. Actually, it was my roommates fiance who noticed it and mentioned it to us.
I wish Nem would weigh in on this and tell a story about a certain roommate who would spoon in bed with her RS president. That would be fun.
I would like to point out that I'm a girl, and I had utterly normal roommates. They didn't steal my food. They cleaned up after themselves. They were nice and courteous, and they even gave me rides sometimes. Not all women are psycho.
My older brother always lost at roommate roulette while he was at BYU, but one guy in particular was, I think, the real winner of the "worst roommate ever" title. At first, Brine (his real name is equally nature-oriented) seemed like a slightly fried, nice vegan guitar-playing guy. Turns out he was certifiably schizophrenic (and talked to himself about Kurt Cobain's "energy" and killing people), wasn't taking his medications, had several restraining orders against him and was avoiding his parole officer, and threatened to smash my brother's head in with a guitar. He also was pretty messy and didn't do the dishes, at least before he was evicted and taken back to prison.
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