*Disclaimer* This post is in no way an indictment of my room mate. He is one of the sanest people I know, and I'm thankful every day that I get to live with him. If the reverse is true or not, I have no way of knowing.
We're like these guys, but without the gay vibe.Since I've never had a crazy room mate (eccentric at best) I figured I should share some stories about crazy room mates that I've known through friends, as well as one or two of the oddities that my otherwise sane room mates might have. Hopefully you will chuckle a bit, either because you've been through these things, or because you just think it's funny.
First off, we'll begin with the incident that inspired me to write this post. A good friend of mine lives in an apartment with three other girls. What she didn't know upon moving in was that one of the girls is apparently bat-shit crazy. Now, when I say "girl" I really mean fifty three year old menopausal, unemployed ex-Marine. She also has a history of violence, mental instability and a mild drinking problem.
Less cats; more knives, booze, and pills. This old lady was already in the apartment before the three younger girls moved in, apparently all alone because the previous room mates had "complained about her, not gotten along with her and made her really angry". That happens right?
Warning sign? Possibly. So yes, perhaps this was something that could have been foreseen... Oh wait! I forgot to mention that my friend does card readings (kind of like Tarot cards, but with regular cards, not reliable, but creepily accurate at times), and she wanted to see if the old lady would stay. The cards said that she would not stay, and that it would be a big deal, with lots of strife.
"Miss Cleo say run! That bitch is crazy!" When I was visiting, I went out with the three younger girls and some of their friends. We went to a nice restaurant, then a hookah bar. My friend and I left the bar early, and stopped by a graduation party that one of my friends was throwing. We got back to her apartment around 1:30 in the morning, and were the first ones back to what turned out to be the scene of the crime.
As she went to put her leftovers in the fridge, we notice that there was trash all over the kitchen, and the chocolate chip pancakes that we had cooked earlier were all over the floor. Turning into the living room, the furniture was disheveled, with the couch leaning up against a chair lying on it's side by the door. A pot of cooking oil had been splashed all over the floor, and the curtains and rod had been ripped off the wall.
It was either robbers, or a really big puppy.As we noticed that the room seemed to have been ransacked, we quickly checked my friend's room, but it was still securely locked. Going back out to the living room we began to see oddities that had escaped our attention earlier. For one, the television and wireless router were still sitting right where they should be. So it was probably not a robbery.
Even stranger though, the small Christmas tree that had been by the window was missing. There had been a jar of red and green M&M's that was now empty except for one lonely green M&M. The festive candle sets on the kitchen counter were gone, along with a miniature nativity scene. All this pointed to one obvious culprit.
Jim Carrey, or Jane Lynch. Both work. But seriously though, it was the crazy old lady. My friend tried calling her other room mates, but they didn't pick up for some reason. We took photos, and then went to her room and called the room mates again, and they finally picked up. They came home quickly, and a quick council of war was called with all the friends. We tried knocking on crazy lady's door, but she was unresponsive except for one "yeah!".
The decision was made to call the police. Just a few minutes after we called the police, the private security staff for the apartment walked by on patrol, so we roped them in as well. They knocked on crazy lady's room, still with no response. We briefed them on the fact that the old lady was crazy, had a drinking problem, was on medications, and possibly had a gun. And then after about twenty minutes the actual police got there and took charge. That's when the stereotypical domestic disturbance episode of COPS begins.
They were very professional. She finally responded to the police, after a good minute of knocking and them saying that they will break the door down to offer assistance if she is blacked out drunk or hurt. She's polite to the police, but raging against the girls. Apparently they've done nothing but piss her off lately, a fact that the other three room mates were unaware of. She wasn't drunk enough or belligerent enough for the officers to arrest her, so basically the girls all left as she began laughing maniacally to herself.
"Muah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!" I imagine she then puttered around the apartment for a few hours, talking to herself, and thinking of ways to exact her revenge. But not cleaning up the grease or trash, because that was all still there the next day apparently. How my friend is going to get out of this one, I don't yet know. But I'm sure it will provide some rather interesting stories for the next month or so.
