Unless you are a Richie-rich or a sociopath, you must have had a roommate at some or the other point in your life. Be it a college, a condo or an Airbnb room; you would have shared the space with someone. This very experience could be an interesting start for a friendship or a sneak peek of a lifelong enmity.
It is natural to have difference of opinions and resulting occasional tiffs. But some of us have had this roommate shit in gigantic proportions. Like these Reddit users, whose roommate accounts are real life horror stories.
1. Dude, not the Pop-Tarts!
My roommate’s boyfriend moved in with us to “get back on his feet,” which was supposed to be a couple weeks at the most. He kept ordering adult films on our cable box and when I told her he had to go, he refused to leave. We called the cops and they made us allow him 30 days to vacate! It was the most awkward situation. Pair this with the fact that I had to hide my food in my bedroom because my roommate would get up in the middle of the night and eat my pop-tarts.
2. “It happened again.”
In our dorm, the most popular layout of furniture to maximize the space in the room was putting them in an L shape so that one was against the wall with the window, leaving a nice area of open space to hang out in the center of the room. Her mother decided we were not allowed to do this because one of us might roll over in our sleep and fall out the window to our demise 10 floors below. Mind you, the window was two feet above the level of the bed and bolted shut.
Every night before we went to sleep Roomie would lock the door, turn the handle to the right, pull on the door three times, turn left, pull three times, turn right again and pull three times. Every. Single. Night.
One day I had just taken out the trash and shortly after thrown out some scrap paper in the bin next to our sink. Roomie went to brush her teeth and accidentally knocked her toothbrush into said bin. Roomie proceeds to call her mother to ask whether she should wash off her toothbrush and use it or throw it away and buy a new. She and her mother discuss the topic for about ten minutes, with Roomie describing the contents of the bin and exactly how long the toothbrush spent in there. Mom apparently then transfers the call to Roomie’s dad, and the conversation repeats. After discussing the matter at length it was decided that Roomie should buy a new toothbrush.
Nice girl, felt bad for her. Hope she was able to branch out a bit.
3. The Shower Incident.
My girlfriend and I were renting a house with a female friend who liked to play fast and loose with the term “hygiene.” From this point on, she’ll be known as “the Barista.” We were fairly accustomed to the less-than-ideal odor that would waft gently around the Barista, such as when she adopted a diet consisting entirely of hard-boiled eggs, or the Nutmeg Incident.
The house we were sharing was built in the 1960s, and we had separate bathrooms. The Barista’s bathroom was generally heinous in both smell and appearance, with stuff scattered everywhere. As a result, it took us a while to realize that the smell of raw sewage belching forth from her side of the house was not, in fact, her fault.
One day, my girlfriend and I were watching TV while the Barista was at work, and we heard an ominous gurgling noise from her bathroom. Shortly thereafter, we were assaulted by the smell of raw sewage that was so strong it caused my girlfriend to literally dry heave. Clearly, an investigation had to be mounted, so we made the perilous journey into the Barista’s bathroom, stepping cautiously to avoid the used condoms and other keepsakes in her biohazard collection.
When we arrived, we discovered that raw, chunky sewage was liberally bubbling up from the drain in the Barista’s shower (which was so coated in hair, mold, and stains it looked like a modern art masterpiece). The smell was horrific, and we immediately called the landlady. When the Barista returned home from her shift, she was horrified that the lawn had been torn up to expose the sewer pipes that had been nearly entirely blocked by tree roots.
Since the Barista’s bathroom was the closest to the sewer main, the backups had been bubbling up in her bathroom for months without the rest of the house being aware. We asked her if she had noticed the issue, and she mentioned that sewage regularly bubbled up from the drain while she was showering (biweekly). Her response? “I just squish it back down with my feet.” That was when she got a new nickname: waffle stomp.
4. Moonshine and squirrels, man.
My roommate was from Appalachia, West Virginia. Gets drunk and catches a “mess of squirrels.” He then brings them inside our apartment. They’re all in the same damn cage. When he opens the cage up to clean one before cooking it, they all shoot out and run off. Dude stumbles and fumbles around trying to catch them all again. Knocking everything over in the process.
5. Seems like a lot of effort on her part.
I have a roommate that has lived in the house I am sharing for a good couple years. She’s outlasted countless other housemates during this time. When I agreed to rent the room, I got a super weird vibe from her, but decided to rent it anyway as college started the following week and I was desperate to find a place.
Anyways, she has always acted incredibly entitled throughout the time I’ve lived here and she acts like she owns the place. Her stuff is everywhere throughout the place, her parents and grandparents regularly come over without warning and she sits out watching tv every night denying me and my other housemate the opportunity to watch anything.
Last week I had been working on an assignment and went to cook later than I usually would at about 8/8:30pm. She usually cooks for hours most nights, although we have no verbal agreement that she has exclusive rights to the kitchen. Knowing this I knew that I had to start cooking ASAP before she took over the kitchen and I wouldn’t be able to eat. So I got out my frying pan and placed it on one of four stove tops. As I did so, she looks at me and booms, “excuuuse me, but I’M about to start cooking now!”
I’m pretty sick of her antics, so I look her dead in the eye and say, “Are you seriously suggesting that I can’t use one of four stove tops, to cook dinner in our shared home?”
After a long pause and some huffing and puffing she says, “Well I’M using the big burner, as I’M cooking pasta.”
So was I, but beyond being amusing this didn’t bother me as there is an identically sized burner on the other side (she just wanted to claim ownership of the spot I had put my pan on), so I proceeded to cook my dinner. The whole time she acted like it was the rudest thing in the world, for me to expect to be able to cook dinner that night.
Throughout the 25 minutes it took me to cook my meal, she continued to verbally sigh and tap away at her phone while glaring at me, undoubtedly complaining about me to her parents or something. To make the situation even more ridiculous, she didn’t talk to me the next day/ignored me.
Such a weirdo, the end of this semester can’t come quickly enough, as I plan to move out ASAP.
6. Wait… what?
4 of us lived in a 4 bedroom house. My roommate had a pretty serious girlfriend who was over all the time. One day she came up to me and asked if I was alright with splitting rent 5 ways instead of 4. Of course I am. She then asked the other 2 roommates the same thing. Yes answers all around. Finally she approached her boyfriend to ask if she could move in with us since all of his roommates already said it was alright.
Wait, what was that? She hadn’t asked him about it yet.
7. Why do people get so dramatic about dishes?
I used to live with three other girls. I got along with one of them really well but the other two were casual friends at best.
I know most people like to say that they’re the one who does the dishes the most but generally it was me to took care of it. I did them about twice a week because they just piled up every couple of days and nobody would touch them. No big deal, I figured that everybody has different rates for when they want to do dishes, and if my roommates only wanted them washed once a week or so, then I was the odd man out for wanting them cleaned twice a week. So I usually just ended up doing it myself, I didn’t mind. We had a lot of other little conflicts over the semester but I always kind of prided ourselves on the fact that we never had a quarrel about dishes.
Fast-forward a year, I’m living with some new roommates who were friends with the old ones. I’m telling them about the dishes, and how I felt that if somebody in the apartment wants a certain chore to be done a certain way, they should do it themselves and not expect everyone else to cater to their need if nobody else cares about it. One of them gets a weird look on their face and I ask what’s up. She says “Those girls said you never did the dishes. They said you let them sit in the sink for three days without cleaning them.” What?
Turns out that the girls in the apartment really wanted the dishes done every day, but they were too passive-aggressive to actually talk to each other about it, so they just let them sit in the sink for three days until somebody cracked and did them as “punishment.” It was absurd. You’re a twenty year old woman and you can’t talk to your roommates about some dishes?
My roommate in college (and a couple of years afterward) was named Victor. He was a phenomenally nice guy, and I really couldn’t have asked for a better person with whom to share space. He was prompt with his rent, clean, polite, and only too willing to help… but every so often, a peculiar habit of his would manifest.
The first time that I fell victim to this oddity was on a Wednesday night. I had just returned from a club that I occasionally frequented, and I was feeling rather more exhausted than I had anticipated. After trudging into my room and clumsily turning off the light, I flopped myself down on my bed – not even bothering to disrobe – and immediately fell asleep.
Moments later, I was jarred awake by the sound of terrifying scream.
“Daaaaaaaaaah!” came Victor’s voice, only barely muffled by the wall. It had been high, loud, and seemingly desperate, prompting my sleep-addled mind to race into overdrive. Should I rush over and see if he needed help? Should I just ignore the shriek and go back to sleep?
I was halfway out of bed before I heard more noise coming from the other room… and as near as I could tell, the hollering included lyrics. Victor would belt out one line, then repeat it in a higher note as though imitating a shouting crowd:
“Like New Orleans! New Orleans! Detroit City! Detroit City! Dallas! Dallas! Pittsburgh P-A! Pittsburgh P-A! New York City! New York City! Kansas City! Kansas City! Atlanta! Atlanta! Chicago, and L.A.!”
Immediately following that recital – which was an excerpt from James Brown’s “Living in America” – I heard Victor’s voice sing along to the horn section, which included an explosive high note:
Over the next hour or so, I learned firsthand that Victor occasionally liked to play the same fifteen seconds of a song over and over (and over and over) again. He was kind enough to do this while wearing headphones… but he was apparently so passionate about the music that he felt compelled to sing along. As such, I was treated to the breakdown for “Living in America” something like two hundred times that evening before I finally managed to get back to sleep.
A couple of weeks later, Victor became obsessed with the main run from “The Final Countdown.”
I’m a tolerant guy, and I’m pretty easygoing. Still, I had to be up at 4am the following morning, and that just wasn’t going to happen with my roommate screaming “Doodle-doo doo! Doodle doot-doot-doo!” over and over. I went over, knocked on his door, and politely asked him to keep things down for the night.
The poor fellow looked so embarrassed that I felt mortified on his behalf.
9. Suns out Guns out.
Had a roommate freshmen year in a shared room who was training for a bodybuilding competition. He would wake up at 5, make a ton of noise, go for a run, come back at 6, go to the gym, come back and pose in front of the mirror (sometimes in the nude) all while I was clearly awake. He would also go to bed right at 8pm and get pissed if any noise was made, the clicking of the keys on my phone once set him off because he needed beauty rest.
One of my former roommates in college bought a $700 tv, a $200 Blu-ray player, $120 speakers, and a metric ton of snacks for his side of the dorm. He bought all of this with the inheritance money he received from his grandfather’s passing.
Now, you’re probably thinking that that’s a bit excessive to buy all that, but it’s his money and he can do what he wants with it. Okay. But he bought all this within the first two weeks of living there. Long story short, he had to sell/return the tv, speakers, Blu-ray player, and most of his belongings to support his tuition, and so that he wouldn’t starve once his “endless” food supply ran out.
What really rubbed me the wrong way was when I was alone one night there was a blackout in our dorm. I was hanging out in the hall talking to the freshman (I was a junior at the time) and we were all hanging out. One guy pipes up and says “You’re (blank’s) roommate, right? You like Final Fantasy 7? I love it.” That comment seemed odd, so I asked him how he knew I loved FF7.
“Oh, your roommate almost sold me your copy you had on your shelf for $10.”
This was a mint condition black label copy of the game, which I thankfully still have. It’s a rare edition, and I spent good money on it. The dude was really cool about it though, he figured out that my roommate hadn’t cleared it with me to sell the game and declined.
11. OMG Sooooo CUUUUTEEE!
In college, I had an apartment-style suite. I was a Junior, and I was placed with 2 girls who were freshmen. These girls have obviously never spent a day out of their parents’ house before, so this perceived sense of “freedom” was making them make ill-informed decisions. One day, the two of them decided to get a puppy.
I came home, and one of the girls was super manipulative about it. She had these doe-eyes, the biggest smile on her face. “OMG!! SO WE WERE TALKING AND LIKE, WE DECIDED, WE’RE GOING TO GET A PUPPPPYYYYYYYYYY!! OMG IT’S GOING TO BE SOOOOOOOOOO CUUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTEEEEEE!!!!!!!! OMG OMG OMG” followed by excited OMG screams between the two of them.
This went on the entire night. “OMG PUPPYYYYYYYYY WE’RE GOING TO GET A PUPPYYYYYYYYY!!!!!”
Obviously this was supposed to manipulate me into going “Oh my gosh, what a great idea!”
Problem is, this wasn’t a good place for a dog. This was a college dorm, something we could all, collectively, get in trouble for.
I did have a talk with the two of them, explaining that, look, I love dogs, I love puppies just as much as the next person, but this is a really awful idea.
The more manipulative one of the two decided to throw a complete fit about it. “OMG!! You always try to RUIN things!!!!” then cried and slammed her door.
Didn’t matter, they ended up going to a pet store and bringing home a pit bull puppy.
After two whole days they realized it was too much responsibility for them. I have no idea if they gave the dog to a shelter or if they returned to the pet store, or what.
It didn’t matter. In the following weeks, the more loud one out of the two kept making comments when she knew I would hear them like “Well if only HE WASN’T SUCH A DOG HATER!” “HE DOESN’T ALLOW ANY FUN IN OUR DORM!”
As if it’s my fault that they tried to get a puppy that they didn’t know what they were doing with.
The next semester I made a request to change dorms.
12. DJ spin that back!
Not me, but my cousin had a roommate her freshman year of college that had to listen to Harry Potter book one on tape every single night to fall asleep. My cousin bought her headphones but she refused to wear them because they “hurt her ears,” so instead she would play it on a portable speaker loud enough to keep my cousin awake all night.
The worst part… she wouldn’t even start the tape where she left off the previous night, she would play the beginning every night over and over again. “Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four Privet Drive…”
13. Despite everything, he found a bro.
My first semester in college I had a roommate who was a spoiled brat. She didn’t know how to use a washing machine. She had so much stuff that my stuff was just this little blob of blue in a sea of pink. She was always cold, so she kept the temperature up really high. She would always bring guys back to the dorm room and I’d have to hang out in the common room. I finally got fed up with that.
One time she brought a guy back and tried getting up to something. She kept giving me looks and I just ignored her. He finally left and she was like, “Why didn’t you leave!?!” Uhhhh.
I told her to screw off because it was my room too, I didn’t have to leave. One time she left a guy in our dorm to go run off and do something. He was pretty cool and we watched a football game together.
14. Time to kick out the trash.
Let me start by saying I am handicapped and when I am not in my wheelchair I get myself around by scooting/crawling. I should also mention the roommates were my best friend for 10+ years and her boyfriend.
Before we moved in together my roommates were talking about wanting to get a dog. No problem! I love animals. I did however request that they do not get a large dog because I feared it knocking me down/over while I am out of my wheelchair. I also lived in the basement of the house and worried that the dog may knock me down the steps when I would scoot up to the kitchen.
They ended up getting a pitt bull. I have nothing but good things to say about the breed. However, it was a young dog that had not been spayed. She was hyper constantly and they had to keep her from jumping on me all the time. They would barely take the dog out for walks because they’re lazy, pet owners.
We had a deck that I kept my wheelchair under because I was unable to store it in my home. They would let the dog out on the deck where she would use the bathroom. One day I was heading off to class and my chair was saturated in dog piss. After I explained what happened they still continued to let the dog do her business on the deck because they’re the most ignorant people I know.
Another time I came home late and there was trash juice all over the steps and down the hallway that I had to scoot through to get to my room. That night my boyfriend at the time left a note in big bold letters on the fridge that read, “CLEAN UP THE TRASH JUICE IN THE HALL.” They started an argument saying, “You didn’t have to put it that way and write in all caps.”
That’s literally what they wanted to argue about.
My ex best friend had super long hair and it was EVERYWHERE in the bathroom. I asked her repeatedly to clean the hair out of the tub every time she showered. I had to explain to her that, “I DO NOT HAVE A SHOWER CHAIR AND I DO NOT STAND IN THE SHOWER SO IF YOU DON’T CLEAN IT YOUR HAIR STICKS TO ME.”
Halfway through the year one of them lost their job and would not pay for their share of gas and electric and internet. When we would pay the rent they would throw away the receipts even though I managed all of the finances.
At some point my ex best friend’s mother was staying with us COMPLETELY FREE for the last 4 months I lived there and she slept in the guest bedroom where I had a spare single bed. The day I packed up to move her and her mother argued I was a bad person because I was, “taking a place to sleep right out from underneath” of the mom. Like I wasn’t going to take all of my things when I moved? When I tried to discuss it reasonably like an adult they would childishly ignore me or walk away.
So I packed everything and got the hell out. They never paid their share of the security deposit and I never got it back because they messed up the house by being general slobs.
15. Quit playing games with my heart.
A very sheltered roommate I had living downstairs was very open about her singing. She had no shame and talent to match. Singing Cher’s ‘Believe’ was one of her Saturday morning go-to’s. Hey it could be worse right? Well maybe.
5 am is just too early for Cher. But what was most disturbing was her Backstreet Boys rendition of ‘I want it that way’. This is when things get odd. Maybe she was just trolling me but she would belt out this tune when she got ready for bed after an evening shift. The odd thing about it was how long she would sing it for. There were nights where I would wake up at 4am and she was still singing. Just as bad and just as passionate.
I had enough. I went downstairs to ask her to wait until morning. But it was dark. No lights at all. Even in her room it was dark. 4am and she’s singing her heart out in bed. So I knock and the singing stops. She opens the door all confused and she barely has a voice left. The next morning I apologize for surprising her but I couldn’t sleep with all her Backstreet Boys singing. She doesn’t understand what I’m talking about, but it suddenly occurred to me that she was singing in her sleep. Every night.
So how could I expect her to just not sing in her sleep. Maybe she was trolling me. But for 8 months this little woman with no friends and no family close by, sung Backstreet Boys in her sleep.
16. This sounds like a crime.
My first roommates invaded my privacy by stealth installing screen viewer software on my desktop and cyberstalking me. They would do stuff like ban my MAC address from the router (which belonged to me), type while I was trying to do homework assignments on my computer, harass me by typing expletives, putting a hard drive in my computer and cloning my main drive onto it, and out me to other roommates and online friends to a certain fandom I was part of at the time.
I genuinely believed I was being targeted by an online hacker. I was just a naive, sheltered child with social anxiety. It wasn’t until the only decent roommate I had opened up to me and told me what was going on.
There were other things, like threats of ganging up on me, and stuff like saran wrap on the toilet seat and peanut butter in my shoes.
17. He’s just too damn cute.
There’s a very good chance that my roommate will see this… but to be honest, I don’t care.
First, I’ll admit that he’s a very quiet fellow, which I appreciate. I’ve never known him to throw raucous parties or make much noise, and there’s never been a time when I’ve had to ask him about turning down his music (or whatever else). He mainly keeps to himself, too, which means that I don’t have to spend much time talking to him.
It’s when I do talk to him, though, that all of his problems start to become evident.
For one thing, the guy is completely lacking in any sort of social skills. There have been times – on more occasions than I care to count – that I’ve voiced some complaint or another, and he has just stared back at me with a blank expression. It’s gotten to the point where I don’t even bother asking him for help with anything, because chances are that he’ll wander off in the middle of my request. He never makes any effort to help with cooking or cleaning, he leaves his belongings in random places throughout our apartment, and the times that I’ve come home to find him hanging around naked number in the hundreds.
That last point is made so much worse by the fact that he’s incredibly hairy. I have quite honestly found his hair in my food before, and I don’t even want to think about which area of his body it came from… particularly because his hygiene habits are so subpar. I once caught him licking his hands and dragging them over his face in order to clean bits of food from his beard, and I know for a fact that he didn’t shower that night.
All of this pales in comparison to the worst thing about him, though.
Not only does my roommate keep a thoroughly bizarre sleep schedule – staying awake in the middle of the night, sleeping during the day, and then unexpectedly switching that routine – but he has also started inviting himself into my room and onto my bed whenever he feels like it. Just the other night, I was jarred awake by a sudden jostling, and I saw the guy sitting only a few inches away from my face.
I thought about kicking him out, but he’s just too damned cute. Here’s a pic of him 🙂