Roommate Stories
Feb. 21st, 2005 10:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
40cakesSo it's morning, I'm out of PGSM episodes for the moment, Rob's still asleep. I'll entertain with some roommate stories in the meantime.
To recap, Jenn is a 25-year old college student from NJ who I assume to be fairly well-off. She also seems to think we should have to run by her what gentlemen friends are in our rooms. But more on that later. Ana is fairly private. I know she's from Czechoslovakia, goes to the gym regularly, and is part of a small yet tight-knit Czech community in our little town (who knew?). She pretty much stays in her room with the door shut. I like her.
On with the show!
Two weeks ago, Jimmy from downstairs had a birthday shindig. Jenn warned that it would probably last until all hours of thenight morning. Rob and I decided to hang out at Kim's. We got back around 3 am, and people were still downstairs, loud music and all. We took the opportunity to have loud sex as noise competition.
At about 5am, we hear loud orgasmic noises from down the hall.
Rob: Do you hear that?
Casey: ...Yes. I don't think that's Ana.
R: No, that's Jenn.
C: But I didn't hear Jenn's boyfriend in the group of people that are sleeping over.
R: Well that's Jenn's voice.
C: Yeah, but Jenn's the one who's uptight about who we have over. Maybe she's watching porn.
R: Porn has music.
C: Maybe it's cheap porn?
R: No, that's Jenn's voice. Having sex.
I pretty much forgot about it until a few days ago, when she asked if I ever heard Jeff (another guy downstairs) and his girlfriend. I said no, but told her what I had heard the night of the party. Miss "I was not raised to bring platonic male friends into my bedroom and chat" has had a crush on Jimmy from downstairs, and thought she'd give him her own special little present(sex). But OMG she's not normally like that and she was just sooo drunk that she went ahead and did it. I wonder if she was raised that way.
==
While chatting with Jenn more, I mention that I'm usually a heavy sleeper. But when I lived in the apartment in Vineland with my parents, there was a little old Japanese woman downstairs. Many a morning, I would wake up to the sound of her voice, chanting her sutras.
Jenn gives me an odd look. "You mean her mantras? Sutra's, like, the Kama Sutra." Then she giggled. Cuz, you know, like, I'm the one who doesn't know what she's talking about. I guess she never cracked open the Buddhism for Dummies book.
==
We have a little message board on the fridge. At some point earlier this week, Jenn wrote "I'm going to clean the apartment Saturday if anyone wants to help :)". My immediate response was, "Good. The messes in the kitchen and living room are yours anyway, bitch, you don't need my permission to clean up after yourself." Later I felt bad about that. I've been cranky recently for no good reason, maybe I misinterpreted her message negatively. Maybe it wasn't about "Everyone help me clean my crap!" but a heads-up, since she knew I wanted to clean out the living room closet so we could use it for our storage (more on that later).
Saturday morning, no cleaning was done. Hm. Fine, whatever. I was coming back from SoJer anyway. Sunday morning there was cleaning. Oh no, screw you, I'm sleepy and cuddly and can sleep through the vacuum cleaner in your room. When I emerge from my room yesterday, there's a note on the white board on the fridge: "So now that the apartment's clean, can we all make an honest effort to keep it that way? Especially with the dishes! :)"
Man, that smilie has shown me the error of my ways. No longer will I leave my mail all over the kitchen table, along with my textbooks and magazines. I will not leave boxes of food in other's way, or keep butter in a tiny bowl out on the counter, protected by saran wrap. When my friends sleep over in the living room, I will make sure they don't make a mess. Never again will I leave laundry baskets full of clean clothes stacked atop each other, in the way of the entrance. Next time I cook a big Italian meal, I won't leave the dishes sitting in dirty water in the sink for a week. And whenever I take the garbage bag out of the can, I won't leave it sitting in the kitchen until garbage day.
No, wait. I don't do all those things. Who does? Oh, right! Jenn! Tsk. Call me forgetful.
Though I do seem to be villainizing her without reason. To be fair, I had an umbrella and a pair of boots in the living room. No wonder she needed to clean.
==
When we got internet, we set up the wireless router to Jenn's computer. While putting in passwords and naming networks and all that, Jen didn't seem to want to give me any leeway on anything. The password for the network came up and she said, "Let me use one of my passwords I use all the time," and typed it in without telling me. Yes, I know that was retarded of me. I should've said, "No, let's agree on a password that we'll both remember." But I did not yet know the dumb.
When![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jaina came to visit, and wanted to sign onto the network on her laptop, I told her I didn't know the password, but we could find out when Jenn came home.
Jenn didn't know the password. She tried two different possible passwords, and neither worked.
Ana just hooked up a new computer. She called me Saturday morning, and left a voice mail since I didn't get to my phone in time. She said, "Hey Casey, I'm trying to connect to the internet, but it needs password, and Jenn says you know that."
Death.
==
I found out about this apartment through a work friend ofarafel's. Before he lived here, there was a girl named Stephanie. Stephanie was a real fun party girl, it seems, as whenever Jenn tells a story about her, she seems wistful, but then follows it up with, "Then she ran off and cheated us out of $400."
I'm going to repeat that, as it bears repeating. Stephanie ran out and cheated them out of $400.
Once upon a time, Stephanie, Jenn, and Ana lived upstairs, and Jimmy, Barnaby, and Chuck lived downstairs. It was quite the party house and everyone was friends. Upstairs, Stephanie was in charge of the electric bill. Once a month, she'd ask Ana and Jenn for about $30 each for the bill. She asked for cash, since "checks were hard to deal with." Every month, Ana and Jenn paid up.
Stephanie fell in love and had to run to Texas to be with her boyfriend. Days after she left, Jenn doesn't notice the power's out until she takes a freezing cold shower. She text messages Stephanie - "did you pay the electric before you left?"
Stephanie replies, "Yeah, sorry, I'll send that right away." Jenn believes her, and calls the electric company to plead that just one little payment is late, can't they turn it back on?
It's August. The electric company informs her there hasn't been a payment since May. See, apparently they can't shut you off if you miss one payment. You have to miss repeated consecutive payments for them to do anything. And there was a payment in May, and one in January, but they didn't come close to paying off the full balance, and what was left was about $400. Also, the monthly bills weren't $90-100, as Jenn believed (if Stephanie was saying they each owed $30-something), but $60-70 per month. So when she DID pay the bill, Stephanie was only charging the other two.
Now that sucks, but here's what gets me. The bathroom closet - full of stuff. When I asked Jenn if we could move around some things so I could have ONE shelf, she said she didn't know what stuff was Ana's, and what stuff was Stephanie's, so we'd have to wait until Ana was home. Same for the closet in the living room, except 90% of the things in there are Stephanie's.
Let me get this straight. A roommate skips town and cheats you out of $400, and leaves a good portion of her crap behind (including the bed in the living room), and your first thought isn't "Yard Sale"? Or even, "let's take all this to the dump!" Man, you guys ARE dumb.
==
Oh, and they keep putting the toilet paper on under-handed.
>^..^
To recap, Jenn is a 25-year old college student from NJ who I assume to be fairly well-off. She also seems to think we should have to run by her what gentlemen friends are in our rooms. But more on that later. Ana is fairly private. I know she's from Czechoslovakia, goes to the gym regularly, and is part of a small yet tight-knit Czech community in our little town (who knew?). She pretty much stays in her room with the door shut. I like her.
On with the show!
Two weeks ago, Jimmy from downstairs had a birthday shindig. Jenn warned that it would probably last until all hours of the
At about 5am, we hear loud orgasmic noises from down the hall.
Rob: Do you hear that?
Casey: ...Yes. I don't think that's Ana.
R: No, that's Jenn.
C: But I didn't hear Jenn's boyfriend in the group of people that are sleeping over.
R: Well that's Jenn's voice.
C: Yeah, but Jenn's the one who's uptight about who we have over. Maybe she's watching porn.
R: Porn has music.
C: Maybe it's cheap porn?
R: No, that's Jenn's voice. Having sex.
I pretty much forgot about it until a few days ago, when she asked if I ever heard Jeff (another guy downstairs) and his girlfriend. I said no, but told her what I had heard the night of the party. Miss "I was not raised to bring platonic male friends into my bedroom and chat" has had a crush on Jimmy from downstairs, and thought she'd give him her own special little present(sex). But OMG she's not normally like that and she was just sooo drunk that she went ahead and did it. I wonder if she was raised that way.
==
While chatting with Jenn more, I mention that I'm usually a heavy sleeper. But when I lived in the apartment in Vineland with my parents, there was a little old Japanese woman downstairs. Many a morning, I would wake up to the sound of her voice, chanting her sutras.
Jenn gives me an odd look. "You mean her mantras? Sutra's, like, the Kama Sutra." Then she giggled. Cuz, you know, like, I'm the one who doesn't know what she's talking about. I guess she never cracked open the Buddhism for Dummies book.
==
We have a little message board on the fridge. At some point earlier this week, Jenn wrote "I'm going to clean the apartment Saturday if anyone wants to help :)". My immediate response was, "Good. The messes in the kitchen and living room are yours anyway, bitch, you don't need my permission to clean up after yourself." Later I felt bad about that. I've been cranky recently for no good reason, maybe I misinterpreted her message negatively. Maybe it wasn't about "Everyone help me clean my crap!" but a heads-up, since she knew I wanted to clean out the living room closet so we could use it for our storage (more on that later).
Saturday morning, no cleaning was done. Hm. Fine, whatever. I was coming back from SoJer anyway. Sunday morning there was cleaning. Oh no, screw you, I'm sleepy and cuddly and can sleep through the vacuum cleaner in your room. When I emerge from my room yesterday, there's a note on the white board on the fridge: "So now that the apartment's clean, can we all make an honest effort to keep it that way? Especially with the dishes! :)"
Man, that smilie has shown me the error of my ways. No longer will I leave my mail all over the kitchen table, along with my textbooks and magazines. I will not leave boxes of food in other's way, or keep butter in a tiny bowl out on the counter, protected by saran wrap. When my friends sleep over in the living room, I will make sure they don't make a mess. Never again will I leave laundry baskets full of clean clothes stacked atop each other, in the way of the entrance. Next time I cook a big Italian meal, I won't leave the dishes sitting in dirty water in the sink for a week. And whenever I take the garbage bag out of the can, I won't leave it sitting in the kitchen until garbage day.
No, wait. I don't do all those things. Who does? Oh, right! Jenn! Tsk. Call me forgetful.
Though I do seem to be villainizing her without reason. To be fair, I had an umbrella and a pair of boots in the living room. No wonder she needed to clean.
==
When we got internet, we set up the wireless router to Jenn's computer. While putting in passwords and naming networks and all that, Jen didn't seem to want to give me any leeway on anything. The password for the network came up and she said, "Let me use one of my passwords I use all the time," and typed it in without telling me. Yes, I know that was retarded of me. I should've said, "No, let's agree on a password that we'll both remember." But I did not yet know the dumb.
When
jaina came to visit, and wanted to sign onto the network on her laptop, I told her I didn't know the password, but we could find out when Jenn came home.Jenn didn't know the password. She tried two different possible passwords, and neither worked.
Ana just hooked up a new computer. She called me Saturday morning, and left a voice mail since I didn't get to my phone in time. She said, "Hey Casey, I'm trying to connect to the internet, but it needs password, and Jenn says you know that."
Death.
==
I found out about this apartment through a work friend of
arafel's. Before he lived here, there was a girl named Stephanie. Stephanie was a real fun party girl, it seems, as whenever Jenn tells a story about her, she seems wistful, but then follows it up with, "Then she ran off and cheated us out of $400."I'm going to repeat that, as it bears repeating. Stephanie ran out and cheated them out of $400.
Once upon a time, Stephanie, Jenn, and Ana lived upstairs, and Jimmy, Barnaby, and Chuck lived downstairs. It was quite the party house and everyone was friends. Upstairs, Stephanie was in charge of the electric bill. Once a month, she'd ask Ana and Jenn for about $30 each for the bill. She asked for cash, since "checks were hard to deal with." Every month, Ana and Jenn paid up.
Stephanie fell in love and had to run to Texas to be with her boyfriend. Days after she left, Jenn doesn't notice the power's out until she takes a freezing cold shower. She text messages Stephanie - "did you pay the electric before you left?"
Stephanie replies, "Yeah, sorry, I'll send that right away." Jenn believes her, and calls the electric company to plead that just one little payment is late, can't they turn it back on?
It's August. The electric company informs her there hasn't been a payment since May. See, apparently they can't shut you off if you miss one payment. You have to miss repeated consecutive payments for them to do anything. And there was a payment in May, and one in January, but they didn't come close to paying off the full balance, and what was left was about $400. Also, the monthly bills weren't $90-100, as Jenn believed (if Stephanie was saying they each owed $30-something), but $60-70 per month. So when she DID pay the bill, Stephanie was only charging the other two.
Now that sucks, but here's what gets me. The bathroom closet - full of stuff. When I asked Jenn if we could move around some things so I could have ONE shelf, she said she didn't know what stuff was Ana's, and what stuff was Stephanie's, so we'd have to wait until Ana was home. Same for the closet in the living room, except 90% of the things in there are Stephanie's.
Let me get this straight. A roommate skips town and cheats you out of $400, and leaves a good portion of her crap behind (including the bed in the living room), and your first thought isn't "Yard Sale"? Or even, "let's take all this to the dump!" Man, you guys ARE dumb.
==
Oh, and they keep putting the toilet paper on under-handed.
>^..^
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-02-21 05:28 pm (UTC)Don't forget the all-time favorite: burning in effigy.
If Jenn was named Heather I would've thought it might be my first roomate from college. I guess it's only okay to have boys in your room if you want to fuck them.
no subject
Date: 2005-02-21 11:47 pm (UTC)>^..^
no subject
Date: 2005-02-22 01:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-21 07:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-21 11:49 pm (UTC)>^..^
no subject
Date: 2005-02-21 11:13 pm (UTC)You want a story? Right. On innumerable occasions my flatmates have left our communal living area in a fucking filthy state. I mean half-eaten meals left on the table, soup spilled on the floor, dishes piled on the worktops. I don't know how they were brought up, but my mother taught me to at least scrape my food out and then rinse my plate, even if I didn't actually do the dishes. And in this flat, I have done the dishes more times than I can count. Just me, by myself, unable to live in this pigsty for another minute, washing every dish we communally possess.
A week ago Jen #1 knocks on my door. 'Catherine,' she says, 'can you please do your own dishes? Alison's just had to do a whole lot which weren't hers.'
Me: 'I do do my own dishes. Good night.'
And I close the door, and I devote the next five minutes to sending voodoo messages of HATE through the (paper-thin) walls.
And they've stolen/broken my Great Gatsby mug. Fuckers.
no subject
Date: 2005-02-21 11:44 pm (UTC)>^..^
no subject
Date: 2005-02-22 02:11 am (UTC)One of our roommates was like that in college. She was permitted to have Chester the Molester over whenever she liked, and if she cleaned the floor once every two months she was allowed to bitch us all out for Not Cleaning (meanwhile the bathroom was spotless thanks to yours truly) among other acts of nonsense. Needless to say, we don't talk any more.
no subject
Date: 2005-02-22 03:53 am (UTC)XD It's all YOUR fault!
I had a roommate in college who had a different guy over every night (none of whom was ever her boyfriend, who I guess wasn't allowed to sleep over or something), but me keeping a regular overnighter was "too dependent." Yay! Judging each other is fun!
>^..^
no subject
Date: 2005-02-22 04:13 pm (UTC)I actually kinda feel like it is, because I would never knowingly have helped you live in that kind of situation. It's a sort of "who'd a thunk it" situation, but I still feel bad. Will let you know if anyone else needs a roommate and is convenient to NYC.
no subject
Date: 2005-02-22 04:54 pm (UTC)>^..^
no subject
Date: 2005-05-02 11:49 pm (UTC)