The Roomie

Now I have briefly glossed over my roommate situation in Astoria so that most of you have probably gotten the gist—my roommate sucks. Big time. Now it is time for the full disclosure on what a piece of garbage he is. Now when I chose this apartment, I was rushed. I had taken the bus down from Cuse for one day, which was devoted to viewing three apartments I had found on Craigslist, alone (and of course getting coffee with Ibanker, a key player even before my arrival in NYC). I was nervous and clueless and exhausted from trucking around in the cold for the whole day. When I arrived at this apartment in Astoria, which was primarily the neighborhood I was looking in, it was a refuge from the cold. Though cluttered, it seemed cozy. And though Roomie seemed a little weird, he seemed likable and friendly. Plus I was convinced that he was gay, which was a plus in my mind. But my very first night in the apartment he casually mentioned a girl he had dated. I almost went through the roof. I had signed on to live with a random straight guy?? Plus who is he kidding, he is clearly in the closet, as anyone who has met him can attest. So I was immediately put off and I hadn't even been living there for 24 hours.

He seemed ok the first month, although he was certainly secretly pissed off for the night we went out and I ditched him for Cute Guy (now my 2 least favorite people in NYC). We for the most part got along and would hang out occasionally. But he became very clingy; he would ask what I was doing most nights and sometimes would ask to come along. I invited him a couple of times but quickly realized that this would become a toxic friendship, one because I didn't want to be seen in public with him and two because his idea of friendship was you owing him something. For example, one morning I was hungry and hadn't gone grocery shopping. I took one apple out of a giant bag of apples he had on the table (fyi he was also a food hoarder) and ate it. I told him that night when I saw him. Two weeks later, he brought it up, saying that I owed him an apple.

He was also the cheapest person I have ever met in my life and would nickel and dime me for everything. He asked me one time if I wanted the yogurts he had in the fridge because he didn't like them. I love yogurt so said of course. He then pulled out the receipt and said that the yogurts were $2.25 total. Yes, that happened.

His condescension and nitpicking began slowly. First, whenever I asked him a question or made any sort of comment at all he would respond like I was one of the dumbest people in the world. Then the text messages started. I received one on a particularly bad day working at that fucking coffee shop. It informed me that the dishes I had washed were not clean enough and he had put them back in the sink. Now this entire time I had been nothing but nice to this lunatic, as I hate conflict and didn't want to rock the boat. But this day I couldn't deal and sent him a message back that he better cut the passive aggressive shit and talk to me in person. From then til the time I moved out he was constantly trying to schedule meetings to talk about “roommate issues” (aka inane shit).

He also felt the need to give me advice about living in NY and in the apartment. This “advice” grew into situations like when I was putting dishes away in the kitchen and he stood there and informed me where each of them went. Now said Roomie is a 31 year old ginger without a stable job. A real catch. He has been living in that apartment for five years is very particular about all the junk he keeps in (and there's plenty). One would think he is a neatfreak and the apartment did look very clean when I visited it, but I quickly discovered it was not. He was gross and would try to turn it around and make me out as the dirty one.

Now for the climax. We had been getting along for the most part and though I didn't want to be friends with him, I was not opposed to living there at this point. Mostly because this was one of my most stressful months in NYC (ending my internships, finishing up grad school, trying to find a job, and the disaster with Cute Guy) and the idea of trying to find a new place then was too much, so I decided to stay for another 4 months. I regret it every day. Roughly four days into the start of this new period I received an email from Roomie requesting one of his roommate meetings. I was super annoyed as I had been in Cuse for the part 4 days, so what could possibly have to discuss with me. When I didn't respond he called me and informed me that he had purchased a hair catcher for the drain and I would need to clean it out when I showered. I copped an attitude and when I showered the next morning, placed it next to the garbage because I was running late. I went into my room and heard him head into the bathroom. He then yelled curses at me from behind the closed door about the hair catcher. That was it. I marched out of my room and screamed for him to never speak to me like that while pounding on the bathroom door with my fists. It opened and the argument began. I rarely get myself into such a state and I'm still impressed with how calmly I handled the situation. I knew that if I kept up my yelling after he opened the door I would say everything I thought about him, which would not be good for me to preserve my own dignity. We agreed I should move out, but then he refused to revise the subtenant agreement we had both signed with the new date. There was no way I was moving out with my name still signed to 3 months of rent and was forced to stay.

The next 3 months went by slowly. We tried very hard to ignore each other and I was rarely at the apartment. I would sit in Central Park after work most days to avoid going home. He was constantly there. The first four months I lived there he didn't work. Once he found a freelance position it got a little better, but during the entire time I lived there (7 months) he was not away from the apartment one night. I was getting used to this situation though and had resigned myself to staying in the apartment for the full four months that I had signed. That is until the a/c debacle. He had one in his room and I did not. Protocol had been to split the utility bill evenly. He decided it would remain this way, even with his a/c and tried to charge me for half. This was in addition to him charging me more than half the rent (even though he had the bigger room), which I had discovered thanks to the landlord, who was on my side. So I left him a check for 1/3 which resulted in a late night email informing me this was “unacceptable”. I still refused which led to another morning blowout—him screaming at me and me trying to keep my cool and not fall into one of his traps (I will say that the fucker was smart, in a devious way). He claimed that he had not used his air conditioner once, which was complete bullshit. It had been over 90 degrees for multiple days and the apartment was a brick oven. I would walk around gasping for air and covered in sweat and he would be in the kitchen in jeans cooking. After that ridiculous conversation he actually agreed to revise our agreement. Except when I looked at the revised version he had made he had snuck in a new section about him checking my room before I moved out to determine if I could get my security deposit back. No way buddy. Yet another morning of arguing—it was like entering into battle. I had to hold my ground, and not let his verbal abuse and underhanded arguments phase me. I finally got him to revise the lease appropriately but I knew it was not the end. And I was right. The day of my moveout, after the landlord deemed the room appropriate he handed me a check for far less than the amount I was owed with a handwritten note containing the following:

July 30, 2011

$830- Security Deposit

$10- June ConEd bill outstanding balance (actual)

$15.50- actual: July internet

$80- estimated July ConEd bill based on previous July rates and usage

$724.50

The $10 was what I wouldn't pay him for the previous month's utilities. The July utility “estimate” had magically increased by $30. The final argument with douche bag, with my parents to back me up and my man Angelo the landlord even calling him a cheap bastard. He at one point pulled out a binder with utility bills from the past two years to prove to me that the kilowatt hours increased that much (even though he mentioned earlier in the conversation that his roommate then had had an air conditioner, point moot asshole). He had worked himself up into a rage and was squawking about how I needed to pay him bla, bla when my dad determined that it was time to leave—it wasn't worth it to argue with this miser and he could go count the money alone in his room. I threw the keys at him (literally) and I left that dump for the last time. So he shorted me a hundred dollars but I'm free from that socially awkward, miserable maniac. If I do happen to ever see him again I hope that I can continue to keep my composure and not punch him in his hideous face. BYE ROOMIE.