by araby » Fri May 13, 2005 4:20 pm
/sigh this will be long.
It's been a hell of a week for me. I've never gone through anything like this, and I hope none of you ever do, either.
I've lived with roommates before that were strangers. People here put ads in the paper for roommates all the time, and I've done it twice. Both situations turned out fine, for the most part.
A chick started working with us a few weeks ago, she's 30 and was pretty cool with me. We seemed to get along very well. I found out that she and her boyfriend moved here from Augusta, GA and hadn't been able to get approved by an apartment complex, and were facing having to move back if they didn't find somewhere to live. Scott and I had been considering renting our third room out for some extra money each month, after hanging out with she and her boyfriend for a little while one night, we offered it to them.
We put all the rules on the table, right then and there. They are renting a ROOM, of course they'd have access to the kitchen and living room, and laundry facilities, but we stressed the fact that they are renting the ROOM and that it was temporary, giving them a chance to establish themselves. They seemed in disbelief that anyone would help them and grateful too, they were also seemingly respectful of the things we asked to do/not to do. And I mean, I know I might be strict or bossy...but it's my house and that is a luxury I can afford to have.
The week went fine, but at the end of the week Scott and I sat down and talked and realized that we had been lied to, and that dude didn't really have a job. They both said he did. We also realized that we might be dealing with two RX junkies. /sigh
That was sort of difficult to deal with, because we couldn't prove anything, the only thing we had to go on was the lethargic behavior.
However, the guy had our apartment vacuumed, and her food on the stove every single day we came home from work. They also left to go to the beach in the evenings to give Scott and I space. This would be the first week and we felt we needed to see how things would go.
They paid us rent, and then on friday we parted ways. They went to Augusta to get more of their things, and I went to Sumter. Scott went to Aiken. This was all for mother's day, of course. Also, I should mention that I had spoken with girl's mother on the phone that week, and her mother sounded like an upstanding woman, with an education, and definitely assured me that her daughter was thankful and happy that we gave her a chance. I mean, I felt bad for her. She was going to have to quit her job and move right back home because they didn't get approved for any place to live. I mean, I have bad credit as well and understand that predicament.
Scott and I meet up on Sunday in Sumter and head to Asheville, NC for a show. We knew that girl and dude would be back on Sunday night from their trip. On the way home from Asheville Monday, dude is blowing up Scott's phone. It dawned on me that-it's like that every evening we've been away from them and that they don't know when to expect us home. I believe he was continuously calling us to find out when we'd be home. Why, I don't know.
When we talked to him Monday, driving home from Asheville, he wanted to know if we were interested in paying for half of the groceries they bought while they were gone. He said they spent $270 and wanted us to pay half of it, and I said, "No, we actually let you guys know from the beginning of this that we are going to keep food separate. So, no, I'm not giving you money for groceries."
what a freak! why the fuck would we do that??
Anyway, Scott and I come inside from the trip, and dude is lying on my couch smoking a cigarette. Then he walks into the kitchen where he is frying chicken and is still smoking. I say, "John, please don't smoke cigarettes in the house. We told you when you moved in that we don't smoke inside." He said, "ok."
wtf??
Then, dude passes out on the couch. And he snores really loud for like two hours. First of all, I'm not renting the couch, I'm renting the room and I don't want dude sleeping on the couch that we all sit on. Sorry, but that's just gross to me when you aren't someone I am close to.
Scott and I go out to have a cigarette around midnight, which would be about two hours after dude passed out on the couch, and we realized that he's left the chicken frying on the stove. In grease, yes.
omg I'm like going to have an embolism at this point. Girl has been asleep since we got home, around 8:30 so I don't even know what they took or why they were both sleeping so much.
When I go to lie down in my bed, I find a ponytail holder that isn't mine in the bed. raging....
The next morning, I woke up and passed their room on the way down the hall to find my coffee when I see two of Tyler's (my child) pieces of furniture in their room.
just about to flip out on these two people...they've lost their freaking minds.
Girl comes into the kitchen and says, "Good morning" and I say hello...then she says, "They're probably going to say something to you at work today because I called in yesterday." I said, "Why would they say something to me? It's got nothing to do with me." She said, "I just figure they will." I said, "Angela, I think we need to talk."
I said, "When you moved into this house, I told you that work and me and you are not related. I have nothing to do with your job, how you get there, how you get home or what happens. If you quit, you quit, if you get fired, you get fired. None of it has anything to do with me."
Then I pulled the ponytail holder from my robe pocket and said, "Is this yours?" She said, "Oh, yes." And I said, "Want to tell me why I found it in my bed?"
She looked at me stunned. They slept in our bed Sunday night while we were in Asheville, and she just got busted. How embarrassing.
I said, "Angela, I think you're a very cool girl, and I know we don't know much about each other but we need to get some things straight. You don't sleep in my bed. You lied to me about John not having a job, my wine rack has been moved without my permission, my food has been relocated to another cabinet, Tyler's furniture is in your room and you have no right to do that and it all has to go back to the way that it was."
She apologized and said that it was John, which I truly believe. She seems to have no power over herself when it comes to him. I've seen it. That actually, was what got Scott and I started with thinking this may not be a good idea. He heard dude getting mean with her one day last week.
So then I say, "We need to talk about John. I don't think it's going to work out that he lives here anymore. He doesn't have a car, and he doesn't have a job. You do have a car, and you do have a job and I would like to let you stay here because I like you and I want to help you. But I can't do it with him here."
Then I told her how he left the doors open, slept on the couch, smoked in the house and left chicken frying in grease on the stove for hours. In addition to all of the things I'd already mentioned, of course.
When I come out of my bedroom to make myself another cup of coffee, dude meets me in the hallway with bugged out eyes and a suit on, and he says, "Mind telling me what's going on here?"
I said, "John, we can talk about it later, right now I'm getting ready for work." He walked away as if he was doing everything he could not to hit me. THat was freaky.
They left, for what I assumed was work at 7:30-chick has to get there at 9. I don't leave until 8, to get there at 8:30. When we were on our way to work, John is blowing up Scott's phone and Scott isn't answering.
When I got to work that morning, *(tuesday) Debbie met me outside and we talked about our weekends, and bullshitted for about five minutes. Then she asked me, "What happened with Angela?"
I said, "Well, I expect she's upset, however she has respect my wishes and so if it doesn't work out that John has to leave, then she can leave too. But she knows she has a place to live."
Debbie said, "She called this morning and said she's not coming to work because you kicked her out of the apartment." I said, "Uh, no she didn't get kicked out. In fact, I told her that John has 30 days to get himself figured out even. (legally that is what I have to offer since he's established residency.)
Debbie asked me if they were in town yesterday, and I told her that her boyfriend told me the night before when we got home that they'd been home since Sunday night. Apparently, she had her boyfriend call into work for her and say that she was having her knee drained in Augusta. Which was an outright lie. Then she lied and said I kicked her out, and at that point, she lost her job. I told them that when I saw her leave that morning she had her scrubs on, so I had no reason to believe she wouldn't go to work.
I'm sitting at my desk when John walks into my work. She comes in behind him sobbing. I looked up at him and calmly said, "John you need to leave, this is neither the time nor place to discuss anything. You're overreacting, you do not have to leave today or anything...you two better go find some jobs and get out of here."
He said, "I called the cops on you this morning, and they told me to come talk to you." I stood up, picked up the phone and said, "I'm calling them right now if you don't turn around and take yourselves out of here right now."
He left. He blew Scott's phone up all day. There were 19 messages on the phone. They said, "you can't run from this. You can't avoid me. I'm going to find you. You better meet me at 10:30 this morning at the apartment to discuss this."
Scott wasn't going anywhere near our apartment with that guy. If you have seen Scott, you know why. The guy would fold Scott up and put him into his pocket. And this guy is pretty big.
The next thing that happens-- Scott goes to his dad's work, who's an attorney, to make sure that we are doing what we're supposed to do...which is give them 30 days. While that is happening, and I'm at work, Angela's mother calls. She asks to speak to her, and I told her she wasn't there. She said, "Well, hi Ashly how's everything going?" I asked, "Have you talked to Angela?" She answered, "No," and I said, "Well...let me tell you how things are going."
Her mother was devastatingly embarrassed and asked me to apologize to our doctor for her.
When Scott came to pick me up for lunch, he was sitting in the car waiting when he turned his head to face the window and found John standing there. He told Scott to meet him at the apartment this afternoon.
Work went ahead and let me go home, so I could straighten this shit out.
Scott's dad met us at our apartment around 2:30 to be there as a witness, only. Not to bring him into anything, or to talk about any of it. But we wanted someone there for our benefit and that was the best thing we could think of.
When we went inside, I noticed that I had two holes in my kitchen floor. Just to the right there is a dumbell, 25lbs sitting on the floor. Nice.
John immediately starts to explain to Scott's father his side of the story, if you will. I interrupted him and said, "There is no need. He's not here for you, he's here for us. What we need to discuss is between you, me and Scott."
He looked at me, pointed his finger at me and screamed at the top of his lungs, "YOU SHUT YOUR FUCKING FACE!!"
I laughed at him and said, "You've got thirty days to get out. That's it." He stood up and got into my face and said "You have tonight to give me my $200 back for the time I won't be staying here or else you can get taken to small claims court."
I said, "You can threaten me all you like, you've got thirty days. That's all your slack ass is getting from me."
He started to scream again, about how he wasn't staying here, and that if he did he'd make me miserable, and Scott pulled me outside. He was freaking the fuck out...all Scott wanted to do was kill him. And of course he can't, he's Bones Malones, and at the same time, Scott wants this guy out, so he's like wtf do we do?? And finally we just called the police.
We found out when the police got there that John had called the police on us earlier that morning (which he told me he did, though I didn't know why) and that they reported to them we had marijuana in our room. (which we didn't.) That I found to be odd.
We signed papers agreeing that if we pay them their $200, that they have to leave by 8pm, and not return, and not to call. If they had to make two trips for their shit...they had to bring a cop.
They took several things of ours, which they had apparently packed before we got there and didn't notice of course through all of the shit going on. When they came back to pick up the rest of their shit, Angela knocked on the door saying it was only her, but I saw her boyfriend through the peephole and he had been calling Scott's phone saying he didn't want to fight but wanted to talk without any cops.
fuck that, this guy is fucking insane.
We were so scared...we thought he was going to bust the door down. I was almost crying, Scott was shaking so bad he couldn't even dial 911. It was absolutely fucking insane.
Our two friends came over that, helped us pack and took us to their house for the night.
The next day, dude called and said he wanted to finally come get the rest of his shit. Scott said, "I'm putting all of it outside, I'm leaving for the day, come get it whenever but it better be gone before I get home."
They came to get their stuff and while we were getting ready to head out for the evening Wednesday night, Scott found a bag of shwag weed on our bedroom floor. That mother fucker put it in our room, called the cops on us, all in hopes of getting us arrested.
They called Wednesday night wanting to know why we put tea in their whiskey bottle. (and pee but apparently the tea hid that taste lol)
Scott said, "Remember when we asked you why we found two booksful of my cd's in your suitcase and you said you didn't know anything about it? And all of the other shit you DID succeed in taking from us? Remember when you told Ashly that you don't know how the two holes got into our kitchen floor? Well, I don't know anything about your whiskey turning into tea. And I certainly don't appreciate you trying to get us arrested."
dude said, "I'm sorry you're dating such a cunt" and hung up on Scott.
The next day (yesterday) we get about three more calls, one of which includes an apology to me. They apparently forgot a few things in our apartment, some saltines, a bath robe and a DVD-and were also expecting a piece of mail.
Finally, I called girl, and I said, "Angela you leave the shit you took from my apartment outside my door. When you return those things, you can have your shit. Your calling card that your mother is mailing you will be returned to sender. If you call this phone again, I will play all 25 accumulative messages for the police and say that you are harrassing me. Do not call this fucking phone again. You signed a paper witnessed by three police officers that you will not return here or call and you've done both. DO NOT CALL THIS PHONE AGAIN."
Haven't heard from them since. And we have been sleeping with knives under our beds and watching our backs since.
Lesson learned, and moving on. But what a fucking nightmare.