We all have them. The housemate who had some ideological opposition to flushing the toilet, regardless of what number was involved. The housemate who clipped their toenails on the couch, and then collected those toenails in a jar that they nestled next to the spice rack. The housemate who didn’t just listen to death metal, he “was deathmetal” – whatever that means.
We asked some of our readers to send through their worst housemate stories and we weren’t disappointed in the offering. Disappearing crockery sat on the milder end of their grievances, while there were some that we are pretty sure warrant legal proceedings and we wish those people good luck.
For those young readers out there, here is just a taste of what you can come to expect and enjoy in a sharehouse, but don’t worry, most of us have come through it and lived to laugh about it on the other end.
The thief in the night…and in the day
“I once lived in a house-share with four other people, lasting only six weeks. Four weeks into my rental, I came home to find that the locks on the door had been changed. When one of my housemates let me in, she told me that the real estate agent had come by the house to change the locks as we allegedly hadn’t paid rent, even though we had each been transferring rent ($250 each per week) to the sole housemate who was on the lease. You can guess where this is going.
“It came to light that this particular housemate (who had been living there for a few years) hadn’t been transferring rent and would only transfer the bare minimum when the real estate agency threatened to take him to court, all of this unbeknownst to the rest of us. It turns out, he owned the real estate agency $20,000. Yes, twenty thousand dollars.” – Dani
A friend in need
“Long story short… I hadn’t lived with a roommate in nearly 15 years. I was 42 years old and living with a woman that was desperately seeking friendship. She’d come in my room every day and even when I found my only private spot (in the bathroom), somehow she ended up knocking on the door. I signed a six-month lease but only two months into it she decided to raise my rent because I didn’t want to come home and cook dinner, watch movies, get brunch nor really want to become her friend. I
had to get a lawyer involved mid-lease. I started couch surfing with friends for the next four months until my lease with her ended.” – Cheek
Of course, they can stay!
“My roommates and I lived in a tiny apartment, and when I say tiny I mean it got claustrophobic if more than one person was home. One of my roommates decides to tell me her grandparents were coming to stay with us for a little over a month the day before their flight landed. That was already a red flag to me, and the flag turned crimson when I saw how our apartment got even smaller. The entire living room area was inhabitable, and since they were always home, I felt like all eyes were on me, even when I got a glass of water. Once they got comfortable, the kitchen started overflowing with their stuff, and I was frequently late to work because they were using my bathroom, loudly, when I got up. And, at night, I was kept awake by evangelical sermons and loud conversations, even after I nicely asked them to tone it down.” – Bee
Can you smell smoke?
“I was living in a share house when my landlord decided on a bigger property, so I moved into his new property, now a 3 bed with a converted living room, turning it into 4 bedrooms. It was a week before Christmas and all the rooms were filled, and a new girl had recently moved into the downstairs one. A friend of mine suggested a night out at a fairly nearby night club and she was willing to drive so we set off to party. I had perhaps a bit too much to drink that night, and by the end of the proceedings, I was so very grateful my friend was driving. No coat had been needed and soon I could flop into bed with a bowl for company. Just in case. Well, at least that had been the plan.
“As we turned into the main road of where I lived we were quite excited to see some firemen – turning to each other we rubbed our hands and laughed. That was until we started to realise they, the sexy firemen, had been attending to my house – of which was now little more than a pile of black mattresses and all kinds of furniture on the wrong side of the front door. For those who had been in the property that night a terrifying story unfolded as they discovered the fire and the events that happened after. For me though – all I wanted was my bed back. The new girl’s room had been the kindle. I still don’t really know how it happened. I was clubbing with a top constructed of a small hexagonal piece of material with string, no coat and the most impractical pair of shoes I could find. And they were all I had left.” -Anne