This site is a god-send. I had to add my two
cents.
I've lived in a college town for eight years
now, in several different neighborhoods and apartments, all of them
with their own....idiosyncracies.
Apartment #1 was a nice town-house on the edge
of town, two bedrooms, two levels, tiny kitchen but otherwise a nice
place. When my future roommate and I visited before renting, we were
wide-eyed 18-year-olds eager to live on their own. I ended up living
with the same roommate for the next few years; more on that later.
Anyway, we put down the deposit, went back to our hometown and
prepared for our first move. All seemed well, our parents were on
board, things were packed, the move was made. We both grew up in the
same nice neighborhood with professional parents, who, needless to
say, were used to a certain standard of living (and thus wanted a
similar level for their children---my roommate and I). We assured
them that our new place was clean, safe, and drug-free. We showed up
on a hot summer day with moving trailers to show our parents the
incredible new place. Our first sight was a crew (and I mean a
crew---these guys were organized) shoveling through each dumpster
methodically. Cans (for deposit), furniture, you name it, it was all
fair game as cargo for their broken down old minivan. Needless to
say, our parents were horrified. It didn't take long for us to
figure out that "dumpster diving" was a daily occurrence in our new
area. We soon discovered that our neighborhood was also a haven for
illegal immigrants. Each morning about 5 am, a large white van would
show up to transport the illegals to their place of employment. Of
course, before 5 am, said illegals found it necessary to play loud
Mexican anthems on their portable boombox. Several weeks into our
tenure there, our next-door neighbor was arrested for receiving a
LARGE amount of cocaine via UPS. We began to notice that much of
each day's arrest blotter in the newspaper seemed to be centered in
OUR complex (to be fair, it probably had about 300 units, but
still.....it was way out of proportion).
Apartment #2 was a "sure bet" and included two
roommates that my roommate (at the time he had become a rental
agent---you'd think that would help, but no) assured me were "nice
guys." And sure enough, they were, at least at first. They were both
quite a bit older, one about 30, and the other maybe 26. The younger
of two was a dental student and caused no trouble at all. I only
wish all roommates were like him. The 30-year-old, though, was one
of the most foul beings to walk the earth. A chronic marijuana
abuser, he was in a constant state of hunger and paranoia. He ate
food in huge quantities; cereal was something to be enjoyed only
with a half gallon of milk in a large mixing bowl. Ironically, he
worked as a cook, but apparently his skills disappeared when he came
home. He lived on a diet of macaroni and cheese and cereal, and of
course whatever nasty leftovers he could scrounge at work. Said
leftovers (frequently chicken) were normally left in the fridge in
styrofoam containers, sometimes for weeks.
Now, of course, four fellas in an apartment,
there's going to be some hanky-panky. My roommate (the original
one) and I had one end of the apartment---I actually had to walk
through his room to get to mine. We had a system for hooking up with
girls, and generally avoided embarrassing situations. Needless to
say, as nineteen year olds in a college town, hook-ups were not
infrequent, but it was mostly contained, as our rooms were seperated
from the "older roommates" by a long hallway. Apparently, our
30-year-old roommate became jealous of our activities, and
discovered the joys of internet "dating." Before long, he was
regularly visited by a very short girl (maybe 4' 8") with very large
breasts and a bizarre pageboy haircut. We figured, great, something
to keep him busy instead of "shhhhshing" us during movies.....of
course it went bad pretty quickly. The girl turned out to have some
pretty serious mental problems, and had the intelligence of a 10
year old. She would call and ask for him, and if he wasn't there,
would shamelessly flirt with whoever answered the phone. She was
high-functioning in a lot of areas, but there was still something
wrong with her; they were an odd pair. Well, before long, my
roommate couldn't resist her ample bosom, and gave in to her
flirtation. Before long, a friend from out of town did the same.
Well, 30-year-old was not happy that his girl was being passed
around; apparently he hadn't discovered her (obvious) mental
defects. That's when the really bizarre behavior began. Soon, his
door was always shut; he used the fire escape to get into and out of
his room. We weren't allowed to go in his room for ANY reason, which
was fine. But then he began to deface our video games, marking the
backs with permanent markers; the DVDs were next. It only got worse.
Finally, he moved out with NO notice---we came home one night and
found him on the way out the door with most of his stuff. He hadn't
paid the rent for six months. We took everything he had left and
destroyed or defaced it, including a lot of his high-school
memorobilia, book collection (completely unread, just there for
looks---did I mention he was a pretentious prick?) and changed the
locks. Unfortunately, his "fire escape entrance" had been rigged
beforehand, and he got back in. He proceeded to steal a lot of
electronic equipment and anything else he could get his hands on. He
then left nasty messages/threats on our answering maching for
months, thinking we didn't know where he had moved to. He was wrong,
but I can't go into that for fear of possible prosecution......(OK,
I'm a neighbad too). We eventually moved out, and the rental agent
job came in handy when we didn't have to pay his massive back-rent.
Thank God.
Apartment #3 Older and wiser, right? We
thought so. All was well until our upstairs neighbors moved in.
Skateboarders. Wannabe DJs. Small-town hicks getting their first
taste of the "big city." Of course, the amateur turntablist took the
room right above mine, with practice sessions beginning immediately
after bar-close, 2 am, and would sometimes continue for hours. Now,
I'm a fan of "mixing" or any kind of DJing, as long as its done
right. This was NOT done right; it sounded like the same stupid
eminem song played at varying tempos with the occasional tweak
scratch thrown in; just horrid. The police were called multiple
times, only to issue toothless verbal warnings. Of course, the ONE
time we had a party, the police were there almost immediately. My
favorite incident involved the parking lot. I drove a small Toyota,
and most of the lot was full of these kind of typical college kid
cars. It was a good thing, as the lot was VERY tight, with hardly
any room to open doors or back out. Of course, Small-Town hick drove
a gigantic late 70s Dodge Polara. I'm talking one of the largest
cars Detroit ever built. After a few police visits, I watched out my
window as he pulled up and proceeded to purposely open his door
HARD, right into my door. Knowing it had put a huge dent in my door,
I went outside and confronted him. Right when he saw me (I probably
had six inches and 75 pounds on him) he threw down the bags of
groceries he was carrying, shattering the glass jars inside. I burst
into laughter as he began screaming "YOU WANNA GO???? YOU WANNA
GO????" I was laughing so hard, I couldn't have "gone" if I tried. I
looked at my door, noticed the obvious damage, and decided to
compromise. I told him if he would lay off the skateboarding (on a
linoleum floor----very loud) and the quasi-DJing, I wouldn't do
anything about the door. He promptly accepted, then ignored the
offer completely. On the night I moved out, I chucked an
old skateboard through the back window of his Polara. Justice, in my
opinion.
God, I could go on forever.....and people
think a little dog-poo is a life-destroying experience.
Thanks, TOdd, for letting me vent. It helped.
* If you post this, please don't include my
email address or anything that might identify me. I appreciate it.
Feel free to edit.
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