Archive for August, 2010

I hate my roommate’s girlfriend…

August 23, 2010

When I moved to Boston about a year ago, my intention was to live with my boyfriend, Nick, for maaaybe two months at the most. I had what I thought to be a solid internship with an online wine magazine and I was given every impression that I would be hired after my time of free labor concluded. Yea… that completely fell through after the website founder decided he didn’t really like me and had his girlfriend fire me. So, with financial hopes dashed, it turned out that I would be staying with my boyfriend for a bit longer than originally intended. 

That would have been just fine had we been the only two people living in the house. Nick rents one of the three available rooms in a small house in Medford, a city just outside Boston proper. He moved in with his pal Mike M. and another boy.  However, in addition to these two boys, Mike M. had a girlfriend living with him. Terri F. was a fired school teacher who made her living babysitting and receiving an allowance from Mike. Whatever, good for her. Everything was going fine for the first several months I lived in Medford. Terri F. and I actually hung out a few times. But we had nothing in common other than teaching; she was kinda chunky and instead of enjoying being out and about, she prefered to sit in her room and TiVo massive amounts of television. She was also extremely rude and disrespectful to Mike, her provider.  

Unhappy at an awesome party

 Since I was in a similar situation as Terri (lacking a job and leaning on my BF more than I was comfortable with), I made sure to contribute to the house and buy the food for Nick and me. 

Things didn’t start getting out of control until about the first of the year. Mike’s job took him out-of-state and Terri was left alone in the house. The atmosphere started to turn ugly. She stopped buying toiletries, started leaving her empty pizza boxes everywhere BUT the trash can, slamming every door she came in contact with regardless of the time of night. In addition to being a thoughtless fat girl, she would hoard food and leave it in the weirdest places. Nevermind the endless supply of empty soda cans and take out left for the other three of us household members to deal with, corpulent Terri would squirrel leftovers away in the fridge or under counters and forget about them. I would find her leftover food stashes after a few weeks when the fridge started to smell like rotten meat or when the flies were coming in the form of an Egyptian plague from somewhere in the kitchen. 

At least these were still in boxes!

She also parks in the drive way. Who cares? Well, me. To refresh your memory, she and I do NOT pay rent. Nick, Mike M. and the other boy do. Therefore, those three men have the right to park in the drive way, the girlfriends do not. However, the fat girl couldn’t be bothered to park in the street and walk, oh, maybe twenty feet to our front door. Nick was unable to park in the drive way because of this blatant lazy behavior. 

Mike returned from his business trip in March and things worsened further still. Terri and Mike began screaming at each other and we’d hear Terri squealing, “I hate you!” in her childlike voice. Nick came home one night to find Miller cleaning up a broken kitchen window. 

“Terri was sweeping and she hit the window,” he lied. Terri didn’t sweep, I did. So, the “she hit the window” was right but the cause wasn’t: I speculate that she threw something at him and missed like an idiot. Their fighting made the entire house fraught with tension. She stopped saying hello to anyone anymore and would get home from babysitting and run right to her room and slam the door. We call her “Terrible Terri” and “Big Truck”, she was such a mean person! Nick was working on his car one day and she came out of the house to ask if he’d had another seizure (a diabetic reaction) and wrecked his car again. Joking about a life-threatening disease is not appropriate. Particularly when you are enormous and blame your condition on the disease of “obesity”. PUT DOWN THE PIZZA BOX, YOU FAT BITCH. I starting leaving out my scale in the bathroom right in front of where her things were just to show my angst about her perpetual weight gain. 

Anyhow, Terri got a “real” job as a secretary one day and wasn’t in the house as much. She kept posting on Facebook about how she was going to buy a house and things. I deleted her quickly after that but one of the boys in Nick and Mike’s posse would update everyone on her status. Shortly after she was hired and when I continually noticed her lack of effort to keep the house nice, clean, free of her trash, I politely spoke with her about my concerns in her room for about 45 minutes. 

The night before, Terri had come home with yet another pizza box in her hand. This was the fourth pizza to come to Medford in the past four days, and I couldn’t help myself. So, from the kitchen I loudly murmured, 

“A-NOTH-er pizza?” 

Nick was there and was less than amused as he was trying to keep the peace in the house. Nick and Mike had all but stopped talking to one another at this point with all the tension between myself and Terri, so Nick was hesitant to rock the boat or confront the issue. (Let the records show that I am saddened by the loss of friendship between Nick and Mike. I never meant to separate the two of them but of course, in order to be manly, sometimes you have to protect your woman – regardless of how she treats you, uses your money, drives your friends away, gains 50 lbs in a year…) 

Well, I went into Terri and Mike’s room when the boys were at work to speak with Terri since Nick thought she heard what I had said about the pizza gluttony. She hadn’t, so I didn’t mention anything. We spoke about contributing to the house, how I didn’t mean to be in the house for eight months, how I was trying to leave and how there were just way too many people in the house! I thought everything was fine after that conversation. She confided about some personal issues she was having with Mike and with her family, and honest to God, I thought things would improve. 

They didn’t. They worsened. Nick and I returned from Easter dinner at his family’s house to find the house all dark, no cars in the drive way and the back door unlocked and OPEN. We carefully inspected the house, I thought someone may have broken in and stolen Mike’s car (he was rumored to be away again).  Nothing was amiss and we were perplexed as to how the back door had been left open. 

Three days later we had our answer: Terri had moved out. Like a thief in the night, the coward moved out and declared to Mike (who told a friend, who told Nick) that she “didn’t feel comfortable or appreciated.” 

Not 100% certain what it is other than extra Terri trash

 …. appreciated for what? Parking in the drive way? Leaving empty food containers everywhere? Having your period every other week and leaving the foul remains for everyone to see on TOP of the bathroom garbage can? Why would we appreciate you? Go. 

Mike and Nick stopped hanging out. While I’m sure he was upset, Mike seemed to be having the time of his life! He went golfing constantly, had friends over, went to baseball games and even smoked a joint in the house! I’m not sure why he was mad other than having his pride wacked.  Oh well.  Between May and into early June, Nick and Mike seems to be talking a little more and I thought things were fine. We had plans to move out and get our own place as my job situation continued to improve. Things were running smoothly, like a roommate situation should! 

Then life started to turn sour again. A pink toothbrush was noted at the left hand side of the sink. Menstrual smells and green panty liner wrappers were again found sitting on top of the trash. And one day, lo and behold, Terrible

Oh look, Nick can't park in the driveway because Mike AND Terrible are home.

Terri’s terrible car was in the driveway when I came home from work! It was official, she was back in our lives. The relationship we had built with the other boy in the house ended as he refused to come out of his room when Terrible was around. Nick became aggravated and irritable, he wouldn’t come home if she was there; he’d see her car drive to a friend’s house. I tried to pick up more shifts so that we could get out before September 1st. There was nothing to do but deal with her all over again. Terri was significantly worse this go around though. It was like Mike was hiding her but still being defiant about it.

The most important things in her life: Chocolate and Pepto Bismal

She’d obviously reclaimed a presence in the house. Mike stopped cleaning up after her. He started drinking heavily and daily. Bottles of rum, tequila and beer cans would line the kitchen window early Tuesday morning, purposefully left outside of the provided recycle bin. Terri would appear when she thought I had left or something and we’d nearly run into one another. I started to panic, I had to remind myself to breathe, I felt so trapped and out of control. Nick and I struggled to find peace and I was never in the mood for romance. Not with all the slamming doors, loud TV and general contempt towards Mike and Terri emanating throughout the house, killing all sense of relaxation. 

I could think of nothing else but marching up to Big Truck and calling her a fat slob, the Queen of Slime, a selfish little leech, a corpulent bitch. I began to have trouble sleeping again, knowing I’d wake up and have to clean up after Mike and Terri’s nonsensical late night eating binges. 

September is around the corner and I have secured a new job that I suspect will further my wine career in fantastic ways. Nick and I are aggressively house hunting for quaint apartments and I’ve already begun packing. Mike told one of the boys in the posse that he and Terrible are going to buy a house together in another state. Nick says we’ll probably never see either of them again since Terri doesn’t like when Mike isn’t with her. 

It’s just amazing that when you live with someone, you immediately see how disgusting, selfish, reclusive and frightening they can become. Again, I’m disappointed that Nick and Mike lost their seven-year friendship, but if we had communicated with one another instead of Terri just running away when I asked her to buy toilet paper, we wouldn’t be in this position. Living with people blows, hands down. But if you have no other choice (Terri would live at her parents’ house whenever she and Mike were fighting or when she “couldn’t stand this house anymore,” Facebook quote), then you need to suck it up and be a reasonable human being. Take out the trash, flush the toilet, push your period leavings down so no one sees/smells them, keep your girlfriend in check, rotate parking privileges, etc. 

Make the experience mildly livable and maybe, just maybe, you’ll keep your friends. 

:steps down from soap box: