I had a roomate that was comically bad. I think the “comically” part is just due to the fact that he’s from the improv community, and there’s a certain low expectation I have attached to that. If you agree to live with a comedian, you’re agreeing to the possibility of some slack, so you can’t get too mad. (It’s not something I’d agree to again.)
Right out of the gate, lemme tell you the rent was not always paid on time.
He smoked. I didn’t really know a lot about smoking etiquette, but I started to find it annoying that the backyard was slowly filling up with his flicked cigarette butts. I provided him a coffee can and it was soon overflowing. One day I looked out onto the deck and noticed smoke- the butt can was on fire. I put it out and then informed him that he had caused a fire. “Oh.” “So maybe you should clean it out.”
Speaking of fires, there were a few times the oven was left on for days because he forgot he had started something and then gone out.
…Or fallen asleep. He had a sleep disorder and would randomly pass out in his room. Because of this, loud media that had started at 9pm would still be on at 4am while he slept through it.
He would also talk in his sleep. As in, I’d be talking to him through the door about something important and he’d respond like an awake person would. Later, he’d claim to have no recollection of waking up at that time, let alone having a conversation. (I honestly don’t think he was on drugs. Hard drugs aren’t a thing in our community as far as I know.)
He didn’t understand recycling. I would find tin soup cans in the garbage, and cellophane from Kraft singles in the recycling. I said “You know which one is which, right? The blue one is recycling?” “Oh yeah, yeah, I know.” Was he fucking with me?
And now the worst offense. One day the toilet broke. I knocked on his door to tell him so, and that I’d called the landlord. He heroically responded “Oh okay, I’ll take a look at it.” I have basic toilet skills and had already looked at it so I sort of rolled my eyes and went to bed.
When I woke up in the morning I went in the bathroom and found HE HAD TAKEN A HUGE DUMP in the toilet. THAT is what he called “taking a look at it”??
Sigh. He also would leave dishes “soaking” for over a week, which is another gross memory that’s hard to shake.
I’ve had worse roomates- usually because of higher expectations. “You’re my boyfriend, shouldn’t you be helping me?” “You’re so churchy, why are you so selfish?” “You aren’t working, why don’t you have time to clean?”
I don’t want any readers to guess who this is, so let me stress- I’ve had a few improv dude roomates over the years. One was good and his name was Alex Kojfman. This story is not about Alex Kojfman.