An Open Letter to my Crazy ex-Roommate

Dear Crazy Pants:

I cannot put into words how frustrated I am when it comes to dealing with you.  Part of me is concerned that your inappropriate and overly emotional reactions* are an indication of a deeper and more worrisome problem and I would encourage you to seek professional help.  The other part of me can’t get your loud sex noises out of my head, and can’t – for the life of me – figure out why you would bring men back to a house that you share with three other women, especially since your attic bedroom had a curtain where a door should be, and it’s like you specifically sought out loudest and least hygienic men. 

Of course, they’d have to a casual approach to hygiene to throw things into sexy gear when your room smelled (and felt) like warm ass, your shower floor was covered in clumps of hair, your bathroom smelled like a diaper and was covered in a not so fine layer of cat litter, and out of the 250 square feet of carpeting – on a good day – one or two square feet would show through the clothing, dirty bowls with stale popcorn topped with the remnants of congealed Ben & Jerry’s, Tupperware with leftover work lunches, stained coffee mugs that I had never ever seen before, and hair – SO much hair – there was your hair, there was cat hair, and then there was what I had hoped to be tuffs of hair from past craft projects (but what I’m pretty sure was mold) all intermingling on your floor.

Yes, I went into your room when you weren’t home.  I’m sorry you had to find out like this.  But, when you would leave for a “weekend trip” and not return for ten days, I know we weren’t talking at this point^ but I took it upon myself to feed your cat.  The other two times were when I realized that half of my paternal grandmother’s flatware was missing and I wanted to reclaim them before your floor got hungry (similar to what happened when you borrow BOTH of my flea combs and the sheer curtains I loaned you when you moved in but I didn’t find until a week after I moved out when they magically reappeared in Robyn’s old room).

Despite your housekeeping and personal conflicts, I thought it was more than reasonable to return your deposit.  No more.  No less.+  Yes, I know that we were going to receive more than the four of us actually paid.~  But, considering how little you did to help clean the house for the final walkthrough, I thought it was unreasonable of you to ask for more.#  It was probably a bad idea for me to read your e-mail while I was waiting for Jaimee to show up for happy hour, but I couldn’t help myself.  The worst part is that I couldn’t focus on a word she was saying, because I spent the entire time figuring out how I wanted to respond to you.  Of course, I was kind of drunk when I got home and responded, but I just went with it.  Sure, what came out was word vomit= but, obviously, I was not the only one thinking it.%

Seriously, it’s taking every fiber of what I consider “fair” NOT to slap you with a $50 disposal fee for getting rid of the items you left behind.  And, we won’t even get into the fact that there were many, many comments made while we were doing the final cleaning on May 30 about how we should come up with an hourly charge that we could deduct from your deposit for not helping us clean.  I know that you had left the state earlier that week, but you didn’t bother to help us during the three hours we spent pre-cleaning while you were hording garbage bags in your room and your mom was fighting with Robyn over the broom.  So, consider the return of your full deposit a gift, and never EVER look a gift horse in the mouth.

Finally, Crazy Pants, I just wanted to remind you to feed your cat.  He’s really fluffy, but the last time I saw him he had lost a decent amount of weight.  You may not realize it, but if a cat looses weight too quickly he could experience liver failure.  Although I’m moments away from wishing my greatest fear on you,** I wouldn’t wish it on your cat.

Sincerely,

Me

                                                                                                                                                

* For example, when your cell phone charger quit working several days before you were to fly back to Kentucky to visit family.  You didn’t make the time to deal with the problem until two or three hours before your flight was scheduled to depart.  You asked (see: Told) me to come with you so you could abandon your car if you couldn’t find parking at Lloyd Center (as Chris Rock would put it Lloyd Center is a mall that “white people used to go to” where there is always, ALWAYS parking).  You left me in the parking lot for over 45 minutes.  And, after the sales associate kept the store open 30 minutes late to help you, the nicest thing you could say about him was how he “did know what he was talking about.” 

I’m sorry, but you were looking for a phone charger.  What was there to understand?  If one part fit into an outlet and another part fit into your phone – BAM! – you have a working cell phone charger.  So, I really must ask, what did you think you were going to buy?  A hamster?  A grass skirt?  A fully charged replacement battery for your cell phone?  Did you use your big girl words to describe what you were looking for?  Did you accidently wander into the food court?

^ I know you were upset when I sent you a text at 8 a.m. on a Saturday.  And, I know it was early for a day off even though I was offering to treat your cat for tapeworm, because the night before I had noticed that one of my cats had worms.  So, after you barged into my room and yelled at me, you proceeded to give me the silent treatment for the next three days.  Of course, the silent treatment ended when you made plans to go out of town the following weekend and needed someone to feed your cat.

I’m sorry, but that was the final straw.  I couldn’t handle it anymore.  You had pushed me to my breaking point.  I realized that it was more polite for me not to talk to you than to blow up on you, which is what I really, REALLY wanted to do.

+ Good morning,

You may have already read the e-mail I sent back to the property owners.  Since at the very least we're going to get back $2,400 (this does not include the pet deposit) here is what I'm thinking to reimburse everyone if the property owners end up keeping the other $600, but I would like your feedback:

[Crazy Pants] - deposit paid $520 = to receive $520

[Me] - deposit paid $470 + LivingSocials paid $244 ($120 for carpet cleaning + $45 for heavy soiling paid after the fact + $79 for general house cleaning) + $40 for final cleaning + $36 for dealing with property owners and handymen = to receive $790

Robyn - deposit paid $470 + carpet cleaning paid on site $50 + $40 for final cleaning + $20 for dealing with property owners and handymen = to receive $580

Jaimee - deposit paid $470 + $40 for final cleaning = to receive $510

~ We briefly had a man staying with us who had paid toward our move in costs.  As soon as he realized he wouldn’t be taking Jaimee’s West Coast virginity, he used our house as a storage unit until I threatened to sell all of his stuff.

# How are you "defining" final cleaning? If you're referring to cleaning the common areas I also participated inthis. I swept the laundry room, emptied the fridge, cleaned cupboards, ect.  In addition to this, I removed the crap Jake left in the shed and storage area underneath the house. Given this, I think it's fair to evenly distribute this sum among all of us.

[Crazy Pants]

= Hi [Crazy Pants],

Of course we can factor in the fact that YOU swept the laundry room after YOU moved YOUR cat box down there, emptied the fridge of YOUR food, and cleaned the cupboards of YOUR dishes. 

By "final cleaning," I meant the three hours Robyn, Jaimee, and I spent cleaning the common areas on May 22nd while you were cleaning your room, and the four and half hours we spent going back through the house on May 29th.  Our time was spent doing things like wiping down window sills in YOUR room and cleaning out the crap YOU left behind in the storage shed (or did YOU forget about the rotting herbs and other shit that YOU left behind?), sweeping and moping the laundry room and the rest of the basement, wiping down the rest of the shelves in the laundry room, cleaning and wiping down the fridge, mini-fridge, and freezer, as well as all of the many, many things that YOU didn't find the time to do during the two weeks YOU had the house to YOURSELF before YOUR mother arrived.  Oh yes, this does not include the fact that Robyn and I wiped down the inside and tops of the cupboards and cleaned under the stove - and everything else we did before we moved out at the end of April. 

In factoring all of this, we'll also need to consider the disposal we had to do of the random drawer you left behind in the storage area behind your stairs as well as the bathroom storage unit you left on the sidewalk (I've attached a photo I took the week after you moved out to help you remember).

Also, how much did YOU get for selling Jake's bike?  We should also factor that in to this equation to make things totally "fair."

[Me]

P.S.  I would completely understand if YOU wanted to give Robyn part (or all) of YOUR deposit for all of the many, many nights (and mornings) YOU woke her up with YOUR loud sex noises.  (Also, despite what Robyn says, YOU are the reason she switched rooms.)  I heard YOU in action a few times, and it was more than I could handle, so Robyn is a saint for putting up with it as long as she did.

% Jaimee – lawlz

Robyn - I FUCKING LOVE YOU!!!!!

I'm bat shit giddy after reading your email to [Crazy Pants]. In fact, I may go read it AGAIN!

And then save it so I can continue to read it over and over and over again. I can tell already that it's going to brighten many future shitty days. :D

** My greatest fear is dying while living alone and my body isn’t discovered until after my cats have eaten my face.