Ever met someone looking for a roommate that had their shit together?
Me either.
I realize the potential hypocrisy of this, but I never said I have my shit together either. I'm just a cool motherfucker whose shit is not completely together.
But I digress, having roommates almost always sucks.
I recruited my first roommate after I graduated high school in 2006. I was dating this beautiful girl that looked just like Maggie on Walking Dead.
She looked so much like her that when I first saw the character years later in the show, I had to look up the name of the actress to see if it was her. Look at Lauren Cohen! Say you wouldn't uproot and move away from everything you know to keep that going and I'll call you a damn liar.
Spoiler alert. It didn't work out.
I was 18 and dumb as fuck, with no plan and 7 grand. I saved up some money after a sweet gig cutting down trees for $100 a day. I was also in the best shape I've ever been in. How I miss that metabolism!
The friend I moved in with, we'll call him James, was raised by a crackhead/alcoholic mom who frequently blew her allowance from James's dad on her vices. She would call James at two in the morning to pick her up from a bar 30 minutes away. This bitch would come in and take James's weed. Not all of it though, just a couple blunts worth. It especially pissed me off because I threw in on it and she would take like half of it. One time James tried to stop her by holding the bag to his chest and saying, "Get your own!" Then she would start yelling at him and saying stuff to the effect of, "After all I've done for you!" or "I'll tell your dad I caught you smoking!" She was a biiiiiiiitch!
James also smelled like shit on several occasions per week. No one did laundry in that house or when they did they did a god-awful job of it. He and his mom would sometimes wash the clothes, then hang them to dry by the window. That doesn't really work though, it just makes the clothes half-dry and stinky like mildew.
He looked like Seth Rogan.
One time, he came over and his shoes stank. My mom told me I needed to go to the laundry room and spray them with Febreze, which she had already done once. The smell was making it into other rooms, spreading like that weird shadow monster in Stranger Things 2.
So I just finish spraying the shit out of his shoes when opens the door so I pretend to spray the rest of the room. He puts his foot in his shoe and said, "What the hell? My shoes are wet?"
"Yeah, mine too! The humidity is crazy in here."
I did tell him one time, "Dude, I'm just telling you as a friend, you stink."
"Fuck you! You stink." was his response.
I know what you're thinking, this doesn't sound like a good candidate for a roommate. And you're right.
Buuuuuuttttt......
We didn't even do it right, like reasonable people. James and I lived at an RV park that rented out trailers called The Hobo Camp, on recommendation from Ashley's grandpa. He was a cool old man but that was a stupid fucking idea, looking back I can't believe I did that. Like, get an apartment, duh! Jesus!
