7 Levels of My Worst Roommate
I’m sure there are worse roommates out there. This is the story of mine:
It’s almost December of 2012. My roommate (we’ll call him JayCee) moved in when Mike (his younger brother) moved in back in 2009. Mike signed the lease with me…JayCee was between places and needed a place to crash. Being Mike’s brother and my high school friend made it a very easy move in for him. My place is a two bedroom…so he had to crash in my dining room, since my living room doubles as my office.
Literally…he made the dining room his sleeping quarters, except he didn’t have a bed. He slept on the floor. He laid a blanket on the floor and laid another blanket on top of him. That’s how he slept. The dining room area became messy. I nagged him over and over to get plastic bins from Target or WalMart to put all of his shit in. He never went because, “I’m just waiting until next payday”. Waiting until next payday…with a twelve pack in the fridge and an open bottle next to his blanket bed.
One day as I was leaving to go meet a client down the street @ Macayo’s Depot Cantina, I noticed the girl next door was moving out. In our brief conversation I learned that she had to move last minute and wasn’t taking everything with her. She was forced to leave a bunch of stuff outside her area.
As I returned to the corner of my property, I noticed that the large pile of abandoned belongings that the neighbor had left was downgraded to a not as large pile of abandoned belongings. I was glad to see people were cleaning the area simply by taking things…as they often do in our college community. If you leave a couch on the sidewalk…it’ll get swooped up by a college kid who needs one in no time at all.
Upbeat about the news I learned from my client, and happy to see that the neighbors belongings were starting to cleanup…I walked into my home in a pretty good mood. My stupid basset hound greeted me and the day was good. Then it hit me…out of the corner of my eye. Did the neighbor lady move in to my dining room?? Nope, JayCee’s cheap ass looted her plastic bins and started using them as a desk for his computer. You’d think I’d be stoked because I had been nagging him about getting some for so long…but the mess I wanted him to put in there was STILL OUTSIDE OF THE FUCKING BINS.
Instead of the shit I wanted him to clean up…what do I find in the smaller of the bins? Vaseline and a DVD of Bobby “The Brain” Heenan. You come up with your own conclusion for that one. Don’t believe me?….I’ll find the photo someday I hope. I photographed it and sent it to his brother Mike because we had an ongoing joke about JayCee being gay and loving WWE/WWF wrestling so much because of the muscular greasy men. He won’t admit it…but whatever. Nothing against gay men, some of them are awesome…but just admit it and be yourself…y’know???
I can understand wanting to have a beer because you’re sleeping on the floor of your little brother and high school friend’s house…it must be a little depressing. Well the drinking got worse. Like from a 6 pack every night to a 12 pack every night. When he drank, he ate like shit. When a drunk guy eats like shit, he begins to smell like shit because he won’t stop farting. This became a problem because I work from home RIGHT in my living room which is only 10 feet from his “temporary sleeping quarters”. I spent most of my time working from my living room. I have a 42″ monitor next to a 42″ HDTV…I work while I watch movies, I work…I work…I work.
Except there were times when his stench would become so unbearable that it would make my working environment unpleasant and extremely difficult to concentrate in. The smell was so thick that it was offensive…offensive because it actually touched you. If you walked by his sleeping area, the area density per square foot changed and everything was heavier. The smell? Mustard, hot wings and nachos…not properly digested, but still crapped out. That’s what it smelled like. CS Gas and a heavy dose of pepper spray right to the eyes…it burned just like that.
See, here’s how it works. I have clients from West to East…from South Pacific to the Mediterranean. This means that sometimes I’m up WAY early…or VERY late. Now here’s where my work space started getting intruded on. He’d spend the entire day watching football and eating @ bars so he could follow stats for his 4 fantasy football teams. He’d get home WASTED, pass out AS SOON as he was down but his ass didn’t fall asleep…that’s when his ass woke up. During his drunken slumber he would rip ass for hours. – AT THIS TIME…I’m trying to work and be creative.
On some of these Sunday nights I’d have tight deadlines to meet for my East Coast clients. On some of the Monday Night Football nights…I’d have last minute (5pm my time) requests to complete a job overnight and before beginning of the work day the next morning. The problem was, that every few minutes I’d have to get up and light a dozen matches and spray over his area with Febreeze then open a door and a window, etc. This slowed my workflow tremendously. This might not sound like a BIG deal but when you’re used to turning a project around over night and making a enough money on that job to pay your rent for the month…but you’re so disturbed with an almost physical and visible stench that you’re in fear that you might let your client down with subpar design work and potentially lose that client, it matters. That thick, nasty, stench matters.
It got to the point where he would pass out with his hand in his ass. HOW THE FUCK DO YOU PASS OUT WITH YOUR HAND IN YOUR ASS??? I don’t know but he did it regularly.
So with the visual and knowing of how UNCLEAN his hands were…I was now starting to question whether he washed his hands when he woke up…or if he just opened the fridge door, turned the bathroom knob or whatever.
No longer questioning his cleanliness, instead using Clorox wipes on every handle, knob, door, shelf, microwave button to be safe…I was NOW LOSING MORE TIME because of his drinking, nastiness and laziness. – Confrontation Number 1 about his drinking. - Me and Mike tell him that he needs to slow his drinking or look for another place to live.
He quits bringing booze into the house for a little while. However, every so often Mike would stay at his girlfriends house and JayCee would crash in Mike’s room. My hallway has tile floors and nothing on the walls…it echos loudly. I could hear bottles opening and clinking together. He was drinking again. Drinking heavily because he would use the restroom like 30 times in a night.
Around this time he now leaves piss all over the toilet seat. At the times when he’d use the toilet to take a shit…he’d somehow leave shit on the toilet seat. Not just on the back of the toilet seat (where one could IMAGINE the rare possibility of this happening) BUT on the FRONT of the seat as well, like he was sitting on the thing backwards or something??? I pointed this out to Mike one day and we could only come up with one way that a person could continually shit ON the seat. All the fantasy football had gotten to him and instead of shitting sitting down…he HAD to be crapping in the 3 point stance. It was the only logical explanation, so his nickname “3 Point” was born.
So let us recap so far: First, it was his drinking leading to eating bad, then leading to farting up a storm and making it impossible for me to work in my living room office.
Second, he gets so drunk that he’s pissing on the toilet seat steadily. Along with the pissing on the seat, he has now started to bypass the flushing. You know, I can maybe understand how this happens. You get drunk in your room and you gotta pee quite a bit…in the process of pissing 30 times in a night, the odds pile up against you and you might forget to flush the toilet. If he’s too drunk to remember to flush the toilet, he’s too drunk to remember to wash his hands. Around this time he earns the nickname “3 Point”.
The third level you ask? Might actually just be an extension of the second but it’s significant enough that it gets it’s own number. This again is in the bathroom. He gets so drunk that he goes into the bathroom to drop a deuce…but since he’s no longer flushing, the deuce is STILL in the toilet. Now here’s the part that is SO WRONG: There’s a big turd in the toilet…but there isn’t ANY TOILET PAPER in the bowl. – So let’s get this straight. He took a shit, sat there SO LONG and in his drunken stupor…FORGOT not only to flush the toilet but FORGOT to wipe his ass.
Level 3 drunkard is now gone and we’re @ Level 4 where he’s getting drunk and taking showers. Long showers. The first time I noticed I thought he was jerking, scrubbing, washing and maybe doing some reflecting in there or something. These showers are HOT AS FUCK. When he opens the door after, he has to pry/push it open because he’s been in there so long with the water SO HOT that the door has become warped in the top opening corner. The door will no longer open or close correctly because his showers are so fucking ridiculous.
Having the door work like this makes it difficult to close the door all the way. If I can’t actually close my door all the way, how can I actually lock it? If I can’t lock it…how am I ever supposed to dump in peace? Worrying about someone walking in on me WHILE I’m in the most vulnerable position of the day makes for an extremely uncomfortable and rushed job.
SIDE NOTE: Did I mention he NEVER empties the lint trap in the dryer? When he gets his own place, if he keeps drinking the way he does…his house is most certainly going to catch fire.
SIDER NOTE: By Level 5 JayCee’s younger brother and my BETTER housemate has moved out with his girlfriend. JayCee has now taken over Mike’s room and is now officially a roomie…I think it’ll be easier to deal with because he has his own room.
So how can JayCee make my living situation more uncomfortable? How about we point out level 5, where we expand on the shower situation a bit. So at first I thought he was just a long shower taker….WRONG!!! One night I was watching a movie and I heard the shower go on. It might’ve been ten minutes into the movie I was watching. I laughed, I cried, I clapped and I cheered. I wasn’t sleepy…so I popped in another Blu-Ray. Which Blu-Ray movie did I put in this time? A movie called “Fly Boys” starring James Franco (I’m fascinated with the airplanes & dog fights of this era). The movie is almost 140 minutes long.
I usually watch movies with my Bose headphones on or if it’s earlier in the evening I’ll watch them with surround sound on high. By the time I started watching “Fly Boys” it was late so I had to put the Bose’phones on. I do this for several reasons but a couple are so I don’t hear my dog whining or JayCee’s TV in the backroom blaring old WWF Wrestlemania episodes (totally not joking). By the time “Fly Boys” ended, I had some leakage that needed drainage. I take my headphones off, get up off my massaging La-Z-Boy and walk towards the hallway. It’s dark and I immediately notice the light coming from under the bathroom door. I waited a minute because I thought he was peeing again. NOPE! I listened closely and the fuckin’ shower was on. STILL ON! There was steam coming from underneath the door. He had been in there for over 3 fuckin’s hours.
All along he wasn’t taking long showers, this motherfucker was actually PASSING OUT in the shower. How do I know for sure? Because on several occasions I aggressively knocked on the door and had to knock more than once only to hear these kind of dazed and confused responses, “Huh……wuh……uhm……whaat……hold on”. – A minute later, I can hear him trying to get out of the shower/tub…but struggles and I hear clanking, a big THUMP and a “…fuuuck…” – @ this point I KNOW something is broken.
The door opens and I’m hit with a thick cloud of muggy shower fog. The floor is wet as fuck and the walls are dripping from the hours of condensation that has taken place in the small room without ventilation. Oh, and what was that THUMP…from the look of it, he tried to use the shower curtain to pull himself up from laying in the tub and it ripped or something.
I hate walking into humid room full of drunk man sweat and hot shower leftovers with the stench of the piss in the toilet that he forgot to flush before he started 3 hours of the hottest water possible showering. It’s simply gross. His boxers are on the shower knobs and one of the shower knobs is broken. Broken, most likely from him turning it SO MUCH to get the water as hot as possible…and being SO DRUNK that he doesn’t stop until he starts stripping it.
Level 6 of his drunkeness?? One night I’m suffering from a nasty migraine and I decide to take a percocet (yes, it’s what the doc gives me for mine) and I headed for the slumber sponge. I’m in the rack and I hear his entrance (to outside) door open and close. A few minutes later, his door to the hallway opens and a few seconds later I hear a HUGE THUD!!! As my hall closet and bathroom doors are RIGHT next to one another, he attempted to open the hall closet to enter the bathroom…and hit himself.
Almost asleep, I’m not sure if I’m hearing this right but I think I hear my dog pissing in the hall. I’m mad but I can’t be because maybe he was whining…and since I’m on pills MAYBE I was in a deep sleep or something. I pop up out of bed to try and stop him mid-piss…and it’s JayCee’s stupid ass pissing in the closet!!!
Yes, I got up and took a picture of it (to prove to him he pissed on the floor). He walked in his room and went to sleep. I left a pissed off note (no pun intended) on the bathroom door. Poured 409 over the piss and layered paper towels over.
I’ve been blackout drunk and I’ve done some stupid shit while that intoxicated. However, when it was time to stop drinking because I was doing dumb shit…I considered it and made some changes. He cleaned it and said “Oh, dude I’m sorry…I must’ve been sleepwalking” – yeah the fuck right. You were fucking drunk you fuckin’ wino!
Now for the final straw. I believe this is level 7…the last level. Short and sweet. I’m watching a movie. I hear him come in drunk again. Throughout the movie he walks in and out of the bathroom to piss. As you would imagine, there are like ten minute intervals between visits. Except for the one towards the end of the movie. He walks in, then walks out, closes his door and immediately after he walks out of his room and back into the bathroom. He must’ve ripped a MAJOR FART while he was pissing because it smelled like fresh cut turd. The smells goes away a little bit and the shower turns on.
Apparently he got so drunk, he shit himself and then tried to make it to the bathroom to finish the job. When he realized there wasn’t any toilet paper (I keep it in my room at this point because I’m sick of being the only person who buys it) he had to resort to a shower.
I went to sleep and when I woke up I had to take a piss. I walked into the bathroom and it immediately wreaked of aging feces. The toilet seat looked like the baker did a horrible job glazing a chocolate doughnut. The wall right next to the toilet looked like it had been hit with a turd buckshot.
I think when he shit in his pants…it smeared or ran down the back of his ass and thighs SO when he sat down on the toilet he got it all shitty. I have no idea how it got on the damn wall though. Maybe half of the shit was performed in the 3 Point.
I had him clean everything. However, since he sleeps with his hands in his ass…I can’t be sure that it’s really clean. I asked him to leave and I’m looking for a new roommate.