Worst Roommate story ever

Two friends of mine dated for a pretty long time in college and after a drunken sexual encounter one night, he pissed in her purse.

Not a little clutch, mind you, but a big purse that had a change of clothes and her work clothes for the next day.

She saw it happening and he didn’t stop.

We heard her screaming from two rooms over.

“Are you fucking kidding me!?!?”

 

How pissed were the parents at you?

 

My sophomore year roommate (who I got along with fine, unlike the aforementioned freshman year guy), ended up in a relationship with one of the girls who lived right next door to us. On the bright side, he spent a lot of time over there, so it was a de facto single room for me. On the other side, the two of them drove each other crazy.

Bickering, arguing, accusations of cheating (she did, in fact, cheat during Spring Break and other times, which pissed off our RA, who, in trying to calm things, had vouched for her honesty), semi-attempts at suicide (she took some pills and drank a bunch of alcohol during an argument; in response, he drunkenly announced he would cut his wrists, which led to me announcing I needed to use the bathroom as an excuse and making a beeline to the room to hide his Mick Dundee knife, to which he tore up the room looking for it until I gave it back to him the next day once he sobered up and calmed down). Thing is, they were both very nice when they weren't arguing with each other, and I counted them both as friends.

He also, on occasion, was into some drugs. He smoked pot, and my first time taking a few tokes was at a party with him and some of his friends. He also got into acid, along with his girl/our neighbor, and they swore how great it was. They invited me to do some, and I told them I would the next time. A week or so later, he said they had some, and invited me. But I'd already made plans to go ice skating with my floor that our RA had organized as a group activity, so I passed. They dropped their acid. As we were all leaving, they came out, all drugged up, and then she starts pointing at me and said that there were knives around my neck. I couldn't figure out what she meant, so I held up one of my ice skates, which I had tied around my neck. She looked at it, screamed for me to get away from her, and ran back to the room, while I and our floormates looked on incredulously.

We went skating, and the next day, the RA (a nice girl, although she tried to be a bit strict with the rules), told me that they were both messed up. Apparently, my roommate thought he could fly, and was trying to jump out the fourth-story window, before he was talked down. That was the last time either of them did acid.

Even more nutty, years later, I found both of them on Facebook and friended them both. The girl messaged my ex-roomie and was all excited that they had found me. I didn't really have much contact, other than following them in my feed, liking posts, ect. He ended up marrying a woman, and they have a child now. She already had three daughters, had a relationship with one guy, then another guy, married him, and that ended quickly. One day, she messaged me, asking if her ex had ever talked about her. I told her the truth, that we didn't chat at all. She kept insisting that he had to have been talking about her to me. I finally responded, "didn't your relationship end 20 years ago? Why do you still care." That ended the conversation.

A short while later, she ended up nuking her whole FB account.

 

JFC, Baron, you shattered her dreams.

 

I would like to know what living with you taught your older brother about roommates.

 

An ex of mine from college is still holding onto slights from college and actually asked for apologies from her sorority sisters during a bachelorette party weekend for shit that happened over a decade ago.

 

On the flip side of this, my first-year roommate, a lovely guy, recently emailed me to apologize for an incident that happened 26 years ago. He said he's been feeling guilty about it all this time. I almost felt bad when I told him that I didn't remember the supposed offence at all.

 

I apologized to a freshman year girlfriend for something I'd done 15 years before when I found her on Facebook a few years back.

 

Did she know what you were talking about?

I've done it, too. In my case, like I had with my roomie, the person had completely forgotten.

 

She remembered, and let me know she'd forgiven me and let it go.

I told her I'd not let it go and that I'd never really be okay with what went down, but that's probably more me holding onto every mistake like it's a collector's item.

 

From 12 to 25, I took acid hundreds of times. I could not count them all.
I just had that one bummer.

 

12? Who was your dad? Timothy Leary?