Back then, I posted the story on Facebook in increments. Everyone got a kick out of it. I figured it would be good to post here, both for my factual necessity, and for those who never got to hear the complete story in the first place! ENJOY!!!
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The Roommate From Hell™!!
By Lauren Kuhn
Okay so here goes. There was this girl, Janice. She started working at my job at the Chew Chew in early February. She was supposed to take a week-long trip in the midst of her training, with her (7 month old) daughter and baby-daddy, to settle some custody issue with the dad's other daughter down in Florida (I didn't know this at this point). Anyway, we thought she wasn't gonna come back, because of the horrible luck of people sticking around at our job.
But she did! She came back, finished her training, and started working. She was a great employee. We all got along with her. And then all of a sudden her baby daddy (whom she was supposed to get married to and all that) kicked her out of the house one day, cried domestic violence against her (a six-foot black man, against a 5'3 Brazilian skinny-ass chick?), so she started living out of a hotel room. But in the midst of all this, despite her not having a car or anything, she did what she had to do to get to work, to get her daughter taken care of, to cover her bases. I saw it. I admired it. Having worked with people who would use any excuse to NOT come in to work, this girl was begging for shifts to make more money, saying she would work six days a week, to do whatever she could to support herself and her daughter during this difficult time.
So then she moves out of the hotel into a room with a friend on the north side of the city. At this point she's commuting 2-ish hours to and from work via public transportation. And I'm like--really? I have an empty room in my house. I live 7 minutes from work. I could provide her with a place to stay while she gets back on her feet, saves up her money for her own place, yada yada, right?
Yes, she had an 8-month-old. But she said she was such a happy baby, never cried, was such a joy. Okay, that's fine. Even if the baby cries sometimes, it's a kid. It's fine. We talked it over a little bit--and then all of a sudden she was moving in.
And everything was fine! For the first.....week.
So this bitch moves in. She sets up all her stuff in her room. So okay, in our house, we have two levels. Our bedroom and David's daughter's bedroom is upstairs. We also have a bathroom upstairs; however, we don't use the shower in there because I keep the cat's litter boxes in the tub. So we can use the bathroom up there, but we still shower downstairs. I told her that before she moved in. She was like "oh, well I have an inflatable duck I keep in the tub for Mima, but I can keep it in my room if I need to." Okay fine whatever.
So she moves in. We're all working together. We're doing things like
getting food at work and eating together, or I'm cooking for us, or
she's cooking for us, and we're all eating at the kitchen table
together. Her baby is so cute and sweet and things are great. I'm like
"Sweet, we have a cool roommate with an adorable baby and I'm getting a
little extra rent money out of it!!"
Ummmm.......til things changed at the SNAP of a finger. Like, in a major WTF way.
So it was a Monday night. About a week after she moved in. David and I left to go find a new kitchen table. She wasn't feeling good, and she kept running to the bathroom (apparently to throw up) and we were holding the baby at that time. So we were about to leave, and she said she was gonna go to the ER because she kept throwing up.
Ummmm.......til things changed at the SNAP of a finger. Like, in a major WTF way.
So it was a Monday night. About a week after she moved in. David and I left to go find a new kitchen table. She wasn't feeling good, and she kept running to the bathroom (apparently to throw up) and we were holding the baby at that time. So we were about to leave, and she said she was gonna go to the ER because she kept throwing up.
Now, forgive me for the lack of compassion....when I'm throwing up, I
deal with it in my own house and move on with my life. Which you'll see
soon enough.
So she dumps the baby with the babysitter, we go to the furniture store, she goes to the ER. We buy a kitchen table. Then we go to Applebee's afterwards for dinner and a margarita (Keep in mind, this was National Margarita Day, hah!). But honestly whatever. We had dinner, drinks, came home, and went to sleep. She didn't come back home that night.
I woke up the next morning feeling like death.
This is a Tuesday I will never forget. I woke up at 7:00 in the morning, feeling like death. My stomach was churning like a mofo. I hadn't even drank that much the night before, but this was worse than any hangover I had EVER had. I tried to sleep or at least rest before I had to work that day. Found out Janice came home during the early afternoon, and called in to work like two hours before she had to be there (she was only training behind the bar, but still), and she said she had a doctor's note for the next few days. So of course when she called in, I knew I couldn't call in too (such are the ails of working in a restaurant), so I showed up to work.
So she dumps the baby with the babysitter, we go to the furniture store, she goes to the ER. We buy a kitchen table. Then we go to Applebee's afterwards for dinner and a margarita (Keep in mind, this was National Margarita Day, hah!). But honestly whatever. We had dinner, drinks, came home, and went to sleep. She didn't come back home that night.
I woke up the next morning feeling like death.
This is a Tuesday I will never forget. I woke up at 7:00 in the morning, feeling like death. My stomach was churning like a mofo. I hadn't even drank that much the night before, but this was worse than any hangover I had EVER had. I tried to sleep or at least rest before I had to work that day. Found out Janice came home during the early afternoon, and called in to work like two hours before she had to be there (she was only training behind the bar, but still), and she said she had a doctor's note for the next few days. So of course when she called in, I knew I couldn't call in too (such are the ails of working in a restaurant), so I showed up to work.
Long story short--I showed up to work, my boss caught me almost falling
on the ground, thank God he sent me home once the other servers got
there, and then I ended up throwing up all over the place anyway. It was
a fun night. NOT.
So Janice, after being in the ER, had all these prescriptions available to her that she was offering to me. She had something for the nausea (which I took), something for IBS (which she offered to me but I didn't need), and Oxycontin, which she offered me for the pain, but I was like "WTF? I just have to vomit, I don't need Oxy for this shit!"
But let's focus on her and the Oxycontin.
So! This Friday afternoon was the afternoon leading into CHIVERISH!! We had planned for this girl to take over our shit for the weekend in anticipation of Chiverish. Watching our cats, our house, etc etc...but apparently she showed up at work, after she called in two minutes after having to be there, strung out and not focusing on anyone.....yeah. Obviously we were still going, And she was still strung out.
So then what happens?
Okay, also addressing something about the Oxy--apparently this girl had kidney problems, and her kidneys were in pain when she went to the ER that first time, so maybe that's why they gave her the Oxy. I think.
So Janice, after being in the ER, had all these prescriptions available to her that she was offering to me. She had something for the nausea (which I took), something for IBS (which she offered to me but I didn't need), and Oxycontin, which she offered me for the pain, but I was like "WTF? I just have to vomit, I don't need Oxy for this shit!"
But let's focus on her and the Oxycontin.
So! This Friday afternoon was the afternoon leading into CHIVERISH!! We had planned for this girl to take over our shit for the weekend in anticipation of Chiverish. Watching our cats, our house, etc etc...but apparently she showed up at work, after she called in two minutes after having to be there, strung out and not focusing on anyone.....yeah. Obviously we were still going, And she was still strung out.
So then what happens?
Her baby cries NONSTOP. I''m fully convinced it's because she's being neglected.
This bitch starts taking advantage of everything we're trying to offer to her. And I can see, in her eyes, every time I talk to her, she is strung out, she's not all there, she is out of it. I don't like that.
She calls in sick two more times, and loses her job at our restaurant.
At this point I'm so over her bullshit. She's strung out on pills or whatever, I don't know, I don't care, but it shouldn't be my problem!
So I say....."You know what? My brother was trying to buy a house, but it fell through, so now he needs a place to live until he can find a house, so you have to be out on April 1st...."
This bitch starts taking advantage of everything we're trying to offer to her. And I can see, in her eyes, every time I talk to her, she is strung out, she's not all there, she is out of it. I don't like that.
She calls in sick two more times, and loses her job at our restaurant.
At this point I'm so over her bullshit. She's strung out on pills or whatever, I don't know, I don't care, but it shouldn't be my problem!
So I say....."You know what? My brother was trying to buy a house, but it fell through, so now he needs a place to live until he can find a house, so you have to be out on April 1st...."
Okay, also addressing something about the Oxy--apparently this girl had kidney problems, and her kidneys were in pain when she went to the ER that first time, so maybe that's why they gave her the Oxy. I think.
Anyway, so we get home from the weekend and the house is still
intact--phew. But this girl does NOTHING. She's sleeping 20 hours a day,
with the baby too! How do you get a baby to sleep that much?! She's not
looking for a job, she's not doing ANYTHING, I'm like wtf?!
Oh, also during this time, she is using our washer and dryer NONSTOP. She's doing multiple loads of clothes, and multiple times! We finally had to tell her to stop it because she was totally taking advantage. She claimed my cats peed on her stuff. HAH. First, they pee in the littler box. Second, you'd smell that crap all through the house if they really did pee on your stuff!!
Soooo we finally get fed up. Like I said before, we told her she had to be out by April 1st. I made up the stuff about my brother so that, hopefully, there would be less drama involved. Surprisingly, she was totally fine with it. She said she might get a bartending job in the city with a friend of hers, and they'd probably get a place together out that way. Okay. So that's good. Only a couple more weeks with this psycho....
And then one day she leaves the house.....and doesn't come back. I finally get a FB message from her--she is in the hospital again! WTF! She ends up being there for TEN DAYS. The baby was initially with the sitter, but then the dad ended up taking her.
You guys...that ten days was GLORIOUS. But then I started getting worried. She wasn't looking for another place to live...she wasn't looking for a job.....wtf, was she going to be able to leave my house?!
Then one day, I go into her room to put some mail on her bed. And I'm like....it is FREEZING in here!! Did she leave a window open?! I push back the blinds, and--the window is SMASHED! Like, holes in the glass of both the storm window AND the regular window!! I called David downstairs to look, and I'm like "WTF happened in here?!" In the end, we decided not to say anything to her and see if she mentioned it after she got home. She didn't. Surprise surprise.
So she finally comes home from the hospital. I very rarely see her over the next few days, but she doesn't mention anything about the window. She turned the heat up a couple times, and I kept turning it down (I keep it at 66 or 67 in the winter). If it's cold in your room, fix the window bitch!
Anyway, the day before she's supposed to be out, of course she asks David if she can use his trailer. She can't afford a mover or to rent a truck (surprise surprise) and he's like, you freeloading bitch!! He resisted a little, but in the end we just wanted her out, so he's like "Fine, I'll do it." She claimed she would throw him some gas money--yeah right.
Next day is moving day. FINALLY! She's packing and stuff, and OF COURSE she starts doing laundry. Uh-uh. I had a couple loads I needed to do, so once her first load was finished, I put it in the dryer and put MY stuff in. When it was done, David and I went downstairs so I could put my stuff in the dryer and he could put a load in the wash. We go down to the basement--she already had put my stuff in the dryer, and another load in the wash!! WTF! And she had her sheets in a pile on the table, and another pile on her bed which I'm assuming she was going to do next. I'm like no way, as far as I'm concerned you no longer live here, go to the damn laundromat, you're not doing your laundry for free!
But then, upon opening the washer, I see her comforter stuffed in there. And I notice the bucket hadn't been agitating like it should at that point in the cycle. So I shut the lid again. Nothing. And then I smell the faint burning smell. I'm like OH NO THIS BITCH DID NOT JUST BREAK MY WASHING MACHINE!!! So David starts trying to pull the comforter out and it's just STUCK in there. Why the hell are you trying to wash this giant comforter in a small washing machine anyway?!
Well, she's at CVS and I had to take a shower before work so we just left the stuff there. But we tried the knob on a couple different settings and it did start working again, so I was like--thank goodness for that. She got back while I was in the shower, and David took her downstairs to show her that her comforter was stuck and the washing machine wasn't working. He left her down there to try to get it out.
She comes back upstairs and says "Okay, I got it out. The machine is working now." I go back down to the basement, open the washer--and she has a completely different load in there! I just go "HELL NO" and take everything, soaking wet, out of the washing machine and dump it in the sink on top of the comforter. I went back upstairs and said, "I took all your stuff out of the washer. It still smells like burning and I want to give the machine a rest so it doesn't break, so please don't do any more laundry in there." She tried to claim, again, that the cat peed on her comforter. I'm like "They don't just go around peeing on things. Whatever. Just go to the laundromat."
So I leave for work with the knowledge that she will be GONE when I get home--yay!!
So her baby daddy comes at like 6:00 that night to help her move. David gives them NO help loading or unloading, except to just drive the trailer to where she needs to go. But he's hanging out in the kitchen to make sure they aren't taking anything that isn't theirs. At one point he goes in to one of our cabinets and notices she took all his canned goods--the good stuff--while leaving her own generic crap that she got from the food pantry, in the cabinet. He calls her over and asks if she's gonna take her cans. She goes, "Oh, I already got them." He says, "No, those were mine. You took the wrong ones." She was like "Oh no, they were mine!" WTF. So he goes "Whatever, just keep them, but get these out of here, I'm not going to eat them." So she takes those.
Oh, also during this time, she is using our washer and dryer NONSTOP. She's doing multiple loads of clothes, and multiple times! We finally had to tell her to stop it because she was totally taking advantage. She claimed my cats peed on her stuff. HAH. First, they pee in the littler box. Second, you'd smell that crap all through the house if they really did pee on your stuff!!
Soooo we finally get fed up. Like I said before, we told her she had to be out by April 1st. I made up the stuff about my brother so that, hopefully, there would be less drama involved. Surprisingly, she was totally fine with it. She said she might get a bartending job in the city with a friend of hers, and they'd probably get a place together out that way. Okay. So that's good. Only a couple more weeks with this psycho....
And then one day she leaves the house.....and doesn't come back. I finally get a FB message from her--she is in the hospital again! WTF! She ends up being there for TEN DAYS. The baby was initially with the sitter, but then the dad ended up taking her.
You guys...that ten days was GLORIOUS. But then I started getting worried. She wasn't looking for another place to live...she wasn't looking for a job.....wtf, was she going to be able to leave my house?!
Then one day, I go into her room to put some mail on her bed. And I'm like....it is FREEZING in here!! Did she leave a window open?! I push back the blinds, and--the window is SMASHED! Like, holes in the glass of both the storm window AND the regular window!! I called David downstairs to look, and I'm like "WTF happened in here?!" In the end, we decided not to say anything to her and see if she mentioned it after she got home. She didn't. Surprise surprise.
So she finally comes home from the hospital. I very rarely see her over the next few days, but she doesn't mention anything about the window. She turned the heat up a couple times, and I kept turning it down (I keep it at 66 or 67 in the winter). If it's cold in your room, fix the window bitch!
Anyway, the day before she's supposed to be out, of course she asks David if she can use his trailer. She can't afford a mover or to rent a truck (surprise surprise) and he's like, you freeloading bitch!! He resisted a little, but in the end we just wanted her out, so he's like "Fine, I'll do it." She claimed she would throw him some gas money--yeah right.
Next day is moving day. FINALLY! She's packing and stuff, and OF COURSE she starts doing laundry. Uh-uh. I had a couple loads I needed to do, so once her first load was finished, I put it in the dryer and put MY stuff in. When it was done, David and I went downstairs so I could put my stuff in the dryer and he could put a load in the wash. We go down to the basement--she already had put my stuff in the dryer, and another load in the wash!! WTF! And she had her sheets in a pile on the table, and another pile on her bed which I'm assuming she was going to do next. I'm like no way, as far as I'm concerned you no longer live here, go to the damn laundromat, you're not doing your laundry for free!
But then, upon opening the washer, I see her comforter stuffed in there. And I notice the bucket hadn't been agitating like it should at that point in the cycle. So I shut the lid again. Nothing. And then I smell the faint burning smell. I'm like OH NO THIS BITCH DID NOT JUST BREAK MY WASHING MACHINE!!! So David starts trying to pull the comforter out and it's just STUCK in there. Why the hell are you trying to wash this giant comforter in a small washing machine anyway?!
Well, she's at CVS and I had to take a shower before work so we just left the stuff there. But we tried the knob on a couple different settings and it did start working again, so I was like--thank goodness for that. She got back while I was in the shower, and David took her downstairs to show her that her comforter was stuck and the washing machine wasn't working. He left her down there to try to get it out.
She comes back upstairs and says "Okay, I got it out. The machine is working now." I go back down to the basement, open the washer--and she has a completely different load in there! I just go "HELL NO" and take everything, soaking wet, out of the washing machine and dump it in the sink on top of the comforter. I went back upstairs and said, "I took all your stuff out of the washer. It still smells like burning and I want to give the machine a rest so it doesn't break, so please don't do any more laundry in there." She tried to claim, again, that the cat peed on her comforter. I'm like "They don't just go around peeing on things. Whatever. Just go to the laundromat."
So I leave for work with the knowledge that she will be GONE when I get home--yay!!
So her baby daddy comes at like 6:00 that night to help her move. David gives them NO help loading or unloading, except to just drive the trailer to where she needs to go. But he's hanging out in the kitchen to make sure they aren't taking anything that isn't theirs. At one point he goes in to one of our cabinets and notices she took all his canned goods--the good stuff--while leaving her own generic crap that she got from the food pantry, in the cabinet. He calls her over and asks if she's gonna take her cans. She goes, "Oh, I already got them." He says, "No, those were mine. You took the wrong ones." She was like "Oh no, they were mine!" WTF. So he goes "Whatever, just keep them, but get these out of here, I'm not going to eat them." So she takes those.
He also
asked her about the window at one point. "Oh, that was like that when I
moved in." BULLSHIT. 1) The blinds were open the day you moved in, and
the windows were completely intact! and 2) So you were sleeping in a
room with your baby when it was 20 degrees outside and you NEVER
bothered to say something to us, like, "Hey guys, are you gonna fix this
window??" Whatever. Not that I expected any money from her to fix it,
but seriously! Take some damn responsibility!!
So she leaves with little to no drama.....THANK GOD. But then later that night and over the next few days, we find things missing here and there. Some of our glasses. Some of our silverware. Two rolls of aluminum foil, a roll of plastic wrap, Ziploc bags, and a huge roll of big garbage bags. Some of my cleaning supplies. It's like--are you effing serious?! THAT WAS NOT YOUR STUFF. I paid for that stuff!! So what if we had three rolls of aluminum foil? IT WAS NOT yours to take!! I don't care if you thought we needed it or not--I PAID for it, it's MINE.
So yeah. I'm still finding little things like "Where did this go?" And stuff like that. So I'm still getting pissed off. She's got all this welfare and free shit and she is STILL taking my stuff. Not to mention getting her nails done and going to the gym and stuff....when she SHOULD BE LOOKING FOR A JOB. UGGGHHHHH. And you guys wonder why I don't support that kind of crap?!
Anyway, the important thing is, she's GONE. And I will never, ever do that again. I just feel bad for that poor kid. She doesn't have a prayer. Two deadbeat, ignorant, irresponsible parents to bring her up. She'll be growing up on welfare, just to end up the same way! Good freaking luck.
So she leaves with little to no drama.....THANK GOD. But then later that night and over the next few days, we find things missing here and there. Some of our glasses. Some of our silverware. Two rolls of aluminum foil, a roll of plastic wrap, Ziploc bags, and a huge roll of big garbage bags. Some of my cleaning supplies. It's like--are you effing serious?! THAT WAS NOT YOUR STUFF. I paid for that stuff!! So what if we had three rolls of aluminum foil? IT WAS NOT yours to take!! I don't care if you thought we needed it or not--I PAID for it, it's MINE.
So yeah. I'm still finding little things like "Where did this go?" And stuff like that. So I'm still getting pissed off. She's got all this welfare and free shit and she is STILL taking my stuff. Not to mention getting her nails done and going to the gym and stuff....when she SHOULD BE LOOKING FOR A JOB. UGGGHHHHH. And you guys wonder why I don't support that kind of crap?!
Anyway, the important thing is, she's GONE. And I will never, ever do that again. I just feel bad for that poor kid. She doesn't have a prayer. Two deadbeat, ignorant, irresponsible parents to bring her up. She'll be growing up on welfare, just to end up the same way! Good freaking luck.
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