My Very Worst Roommate actually was the roomie of a friend of mine. Considering I was a part of the worst time to transpire, I figured I’d submit. My friend S was living in a college apartment with three other roommates. They all got along reasonably well at first but it did not take long to realize one of the roommates, we’ll call her J, had quite a drinking problem. She was known to cook some pretty peculiar things up in the kitchen and one of the other roommates, C had become a bit upset when J had continuously used metal on her brand new Teflon pots and pans. This left them scratched and ruined so she had asked J to pay in order to replace them. This created some hostility between the two, especially as they shared a room together.

A few nights later it was Kerry/Bush election night and I was at S’s watching coverage on TV. C was gone for the evening at her boyfriend’s. J came home from dinner and drinks and was obviously extremely drunk. She began to rant and rave about how upset she was that Bush was probably going to win and declared that she was going to call her dad. We abruptly unplugged the phone without her noticing and she attempted to call several times insisting that the phone was broken. She intermittently seemed to believe she was on the other line with someone and continued on her tirade while stopping occasionally to hit the phone violently screaming that it was a piece of shit.

When she finally gave this up she went into her room and we all hoped she was headed to bed. Shortly after we heard a loud banging and S went to check on her. She had managed to kick a giant hole in the wall and when S confronted her she looked at with shock and proclaimed, “Holy moly, S! There’s a hole in my wall. How the hell did that get there?!” She marched into the kitchen and began to yell how C was a bitch and how she didn’t think she should have to pay to replace the pots and pans she’d ruined. She grabbed these pots and pans and began throwing them around their bedroom until the handle broke off of one. J admitted she was beginning to feel a bit unwell from her night of binge drinking. She then went to C’s bed and screamed “This is what I think of this stupid bitch!” and intentionally vomited all over her sheets and comforter. We looked on in horror and begged her to stop.

Shortly after she got a phone call from a friend saying that an old friend of hers from home had passed away. This sent J into a crying spell and she insisted she needed to get into the shower. She was in there for quite a while and just as we thought we might have to bust in to make sure she was alright she emerged in her towel. She went straight for C’s comforter and took it to the bathroom sink. She said she felt sorry she had thrown up all over it and proceeded to try to clean it in the tiny sink. This accomplished nothing and instead just soaked the already dirty, disgusting comforter. S managed to get it away from her and we put it outside.

J was ready for bed by this point but insisted she couldn’t stay in her room due to the smell. S decided to keep an eye on her for the night as she slept on the floor of the living room. S woke up to J dry heaving and then spitting in her shoes. C was very upset when she came home to see her comforter hanging outside covered in vomit. The school removed J from the apartment after that and a couple years later I learned she moved back home after having a baby.

My Very Worst Roommate was one of three other girls that I lived with during my sophomore year of college. At first we all got along well, but it didn’t take long for things to get ugly.

Three of us were good about putting our dishes in the dishwasher right away and running it when it got full, but MVWR would leave her gross dishes “soaking” in the sink until my stainless steel silverware rusted and left rust spots all over my dishes. We would come home and the apartment would be like a sauna because she would turn the heat up all the way and then leave (no matter what the weather was like outside). She would constantly take our clothes out of the dryer when they were still damp so she could do things like warm up her towels before a shower, and then didn’t even put our stuff back in after.

The crowning glory of the experience happened on one night when she went out drinking with some of her friends, as she frequently did. When she came home later that night, she had lost her key and was thumping on the door for someone to come and let her in. When we opened the door, she was sitting, bare-assed, on the gross carpet of the hallway, pissing on the floor. At least it wasn’t in our living room, I guess, but it was still disgusting.

I moved out the second that I could afford to. One thing I will say is that the VWR’s mother came and cleaned all the common areas of the apartment after we all moved out. But it didn’t quite make up for half of my kitchen things needing replacement.

MVWR story occurred in my freshman year in college. Two other guys, B and J, and myself shared a cramped bedroom with two bunk beds on one side and then a single bed on the other separated by about three feet. At the foot of the beds were tall metal wardrobes. We agreed that for the first semester I would get the single bed, B the bottom bunk and J the top bunk.

J was not a bad roommate really except for this incident. It was the first or second weekend and like college kids everywhere we’d all been out drinking. When B and I got back to our room we found J extremely intoxicated and he’d clearly been throwing up. We were concerned he might fall out of his top bunk so I swapped beds with him and we went to bed. During the night, still drunk, J woke me and wanted to get in his own bed–I tried to stop him but he insisted so we switched back.

A little later we heard a crash as he had tried to get out of bed, fallen and hit his head on the metal wardrobe. Then we heard an unmistakable sound–J was standing between our beds peeing on the carpet. Horrified, B said, “Dude, stop, go to the bathroom!” J replied, “I *am* going to the bathroom!” Then B made the mistake of putting his hand on J’s arm to try to dissuade him, which caused J to turn around–while still peeing. B and I looked at each other and thought “Who are we living with? Is it going to be like this every weekend?”

Fortunately, the experience was never repeated. J was very embarrassed the next day and did his best to clean the carpet.

My Very Worst Roommate was a frat boy. We got along at first and there was a little flirting, but nothing once the semester started. He secretly harbored a grudge after he realized I wasn’t going to date him. Things appeared cool and we still hung out. A month or so into the semester I started dating a guy. I had been going to most of MVWR’s frat’s parties for the last two years with my sorority sisters, and I told them beforehand I was coming to the party on this given night. His brothers blocked me at the door and refused to let me in. When I confronted MVWR later and asked why, he started ranting about how I was always disrespecting him. I was confused, and he wouldn’t give any further explanation. Civility ended.

MVWR would sulk any time I had male friends over, sitting on the couch and pointedly not looking at or talking to us, and grunting at them when they said hi. He would cut his hair and leave the remains (which looked like pubic hair) all over the sink, floor, and bathtub in the only bathroom in the house. He let his dishes pile up all week and started using mine when his were dirty. His method of cleaning was shoving everything under the couch. The smell of beer permeated the downstairs.

A few months later I was dating a new guy. He came over one evening and MVWR noticed. The next morning I came downstairs to find that one of MVWR’s glasses had fallen off the drying rack and shattered. I cut my foot on the glass shards and went back to my room to clean the cut. Shortly after, he demanded to know why I broke his glass, called me a liar when I told him it was there when I went downstairs, told me I’m always disrespecting him, and started waving a roll of computer cable in my face. I knew he had gotten violent with his mother recently, so I was afraid he’d get violent with me.

I waited until he left, then fled to my mother’s house, begging her to let me move home. A few days later I came back with my boyfriend and part of his fire brigade to move everything out safely. I never got my portion of the security deposit back even though we weren’t charged for any damage.

My Very Worst Roommate experience happened during my sophomore year in college. I was living in the dorms, and was randomly assigned to room with three people I didn’t know. Unfortunately, while they were all very nice, one of them was an alcoholic.

She was a freshman, but she still bought beer so she must have had a fake ID. Also, she would leave beer bottles (and once an enormous vodka jug) lying around our den, even though we kept telling her not to do so. At any time, the RAs could have looked in (or smelled) and told that there was someone drinking in the room, and they actually got a citation once.

She also brought her friends over, sometimes on weeknights when I had class in the morning, after they had all gone to bars or clubs and were drunk. Then they would drink more in her room until 3 or 4 in the morning. However, the worst thing that happened was one night at about 4:30 a.m., she and about five of her friends came back from a club drunk. They proceeded to drink more and woke me up by laughing really loudly.

I was about to go out and tell them to shut up for probably the third time that week, when a random guy I didn’t know BURST into my room, vomited all over the floor, and ran out. He them vomited into the toilet, loudly, for about five more minutes.

That’s not the worst part.

The next morning I went to brush my teeth and I only to realize (fortunately before I started brushing) that this random drunk guy had used my toothbrush and that it was covered in vomit.