The Roommate from Hell

I'm at the end of my rope. I have absolutely had it. I've only been here five weeks, and it's time to move on.

I found a place here in Vegas through a roommate matching service. I found a gal that seemed compatible, we spoke on the phone a few times, exchanged emails, and from the pictures of the place, it sounded like a great deal. So I sent a deposit and the room was here waiting for me when I got to town.

My roommate (actually, I have two--one of them is cool as hell and I wouldn't hesitate to live with her again) is a cocktail waitress and a former pole-dancer. I expected a little baggage, as everyone has some, but good lord, not to this degree.

Since I've moved in--

--She's gotten into all of my booze and drank every bottle that I left downstairs on top of the fridge. She's never replaced a drop

--She constantly gets into my food/groceries, and gets pissed when she comes home at night and there's no 'instant' food for her to steal, so she slams things around in the kitchen, angry that we haven't provided for her.

--She doesn't pay her bills. About three weeks ago I came home and the cable was cut off. I called the company and put the overdue bit on my card in order to get internet access back. I still haven't gotten the difference back from her. Just tonight, she slid a note under my door asking me to pay the gas bill of like $120 or it would be cut off also. Sorry, no can do. I'm waiting for my next deposit to hit on Friday, and until then I've got about fifty bucks to my name. I'll gladly pay my share, but I refuse to bail her ass out again. So by this time tomorrow I will likely be unable to use the stove and we will have no hot water. Nice.

--The washing machine has been broken for almost two weeks straight. She hasn't bothered to get it fixed yet, so I have to take all of my clothes to the laundramat. That's convenient. Especially since the house is in a pretty nice area, so there are no laundramats ANYWHERE closeby. I have to drive all the way down to Tropicana to get my laundry done.

--She doesn't clean the litter box until the house absolutely reeks. She has two cats and the downstairs constantly smells like cat piss. It's ridiculous.

--I can't leave a leftover box of pizza or a tupperware full of leftover lasagna in the fridge or she will eat it as soon as she finds it.

--I've asked her twice to stay out of my food in the kitchen. I went downstairs two days ago and discovered that she had eaten an entire jar of peanut butter and left it empty on my shelf. So I left a note on the fridge in big letters that said "STAY OUT OF MY STUFF". She replied by writing "Get your shit out of my garage, asshole, or I'm throwing it out!". No response whatsoever on her mooching. Ok, bear in mind that she told me when I moved in I could store all my stuff in the garage due to lack of storage space in the house. Apparently she's forgotten that. And yeah, clearly she's all about throwing stuff out. Not. She doesn't throw anything out, and the house is completely cluttered with junk. The kitchen counter is buried under six inches of junkmail, the living room has crap stacked in all the corners, and the upstairs hallway outside of her room is cluttered with boxes, blankets, phone books, dishes, and other assorted debris.

--I contribute completely to the household, having bought trashbags, cleaning supplies, laundry soap (which she used all of), paper towels, napkins, dishwasher soap, etc. She has not contributed anything of the like since I've been here. Not that she would ever actually use any of it... (And I'm the asshole...)

--She has not cleaned the kitchen or done the dishes one time since I moved in. Only Kelly and I have done so.

Unfortunately, my arrival here and all of the expenses incurred over the past month have left me tapped out. I need to come up with enough cash in the next couple of weeks to pay yet another deposit at another place and go through the hassle of moving again. Luckily I start working part time next weekend, and tomorrow I'm going on another job audition, this time for about three times the money I'd be making at the current casino. It's going to be a VERY TOUGH month. But I will perservere. I have to.

On a happier note, last week she ate some of my other roommate's leftover sushi. It had gone bad so she got food poisoning and spend the next 24 hours alternating between squatting on the can and huggin' it. Made my whole day. Karma, baby. Lots of it. Something tells me she's got a lot more coming her way, too.

Thanks for reading. I just needed to vent. I feel much better now.

Mikey