The call came at what seemed like a good time. My old friend Skip (not his real name) was in a bind. He was living in North Carolina and he had just lost his job and his rent of $800 was due. He was mad at the landlord and didn’t want to pay it.
“I figure we can help each other out”, he said, “I can give you about $500-600 a month and we’d both be better off”!
The issue for me was giving up my privacy. Skip and I went way back to high school, but we had never lived together. We were and are two very different people; both of us would be struggling for control and I knew that would cause arguments.
“Skip it would have to be 600 a month to make it worth my while, considering the cost of utilities.”
“Oh, OK”, he said, “Well I sure want to get out of here”
“How soon are you taking about moving?” I asked as I looked at the calendar, which read Monday January 12, 2009.
“I would be there Thursday, the 14th”, he said, “I can drive straight down I-85.”
The suddenness of the move shocked me. I wanted more time to clean up his room area and bathroom. Plus I wanted more time to get used to the idea of not being alone in this house anymore. I was feeling a sense of reluctance coming on. I caulked it up to me just being selfish. Boy I’m going to have to learn how to listen to myself when the alarms go off.
It seemed like he arrived in the blink of an eye and in that instant my quiet existence became a tension filled cohabitation of my home. I showed him his private bedroom and bath area, and let him use part of another vacant bedroom for storage. There was also a bonus room that he could workout and watch TV in. Then I showed him the kitchen, family room and the laundry room with a washer and dryer he could use. There was plenty of space for him to be here and he quickly made himself at home.
Turns out when Skip arrived he had no money, or so he claimed. He was living on food stamps and said he brought a feast with him that we could both share. He had about 20-30 steaks in his cooler, even though he knew that I don’t eat beef or pork anymore. Everytime he went to the store he bought more red meat, even though he was supposed to be buying things we both eat. Meanwhile, I did my regular cooking thing working with chicken, ground turkey and fish, making soups, turkey chili, gumbo, veggie pasta, salads, and so on. He ate everything I cooked and had seconds. In other words, we shared my food but he saw to it that I couldn’t share his.
I also like wine and I would always keep a bottle of Merlot for company. But 6 bottles of wine later, I learned that he believed any open bottle of wine was meant for him. During the Super Bowl, a lady friend of mine and I were sipping the Merlot from wine glasses. When I looked up, Skip came waltzing in the room with a big water glass full of wine, drinking it like grape Kool-aide. He looked over at me and laughed as if to say, “You can’t get me to drink out of that little glass”. That’s when I knew that he thought the whole thing was funny, and right after that I started hiding the wine in my room.
He said had no money, but he always seemed to have enough change to buy gas for his SUV and a 40 ounce can of beer every night. When I emptied the garbage, I heard bottles and cans clinking around in his trash. He sat around all day working out, never looking at the want ads for jobs. If I let him use my laptop, he would surf for news from our hometown, even though he hated the city with a passion.
By March 1st, , or about 50 days into his “visit”, I told him the rent we discussed was now due. The conversation quickly turned ugly,
“I thought you would understand”, he said, “the job market is tight and I don’t have any money.”
“Well why don’t you call a relative and see if they can help you out, cause we got bills to pay!”
Skip became very angry and said, “I’m not borrowing any money from my family!”
“Oh, but you don’t mind taking money out of my pocket! You didn’t tell me you were coming here penniless; you said you would save money by paying me $600/month.”
“You expect me to pay $600/month to live here?”
“That’s what you said to get in the door” I said, “If you’re gonna stay, it’s time for you to kick in!”
“Well I’ll let you know by Monday”!
I didn’t press it and I let it slide for a couple of weeks. He got a job working at a car repair place, but he didn’t say anything about rent. Finally, I decided to take him to lunch to let him know that he had to leave.
“I’ll give you some money next week,” he said, “That’s when I get my first check.” A week later he gave me $200 dollars from his first check. By now he’d been living here nearly three months and was almost 1800 dollars behind what he promised. As he laid the money down on the counter, this became his mantra.
“That’s the best that I can do”, he said as he walked away. It was like he had worked out a formula in his head and that was what he was going to pay me. Only problem is, he never talked about it with me. Three more paydays came and the money got less and less. $150, $105.00 and $140.00 were the last offerings. He’d just lay the money down and walk away never talking to me about it. I couldn't take it anymore.
“Skip, we need to talk”, I said as I looked upstairs. He came running downstairs like he was ready to fight.
“I see where this is headed”, he said. “You’re trying to say I’ve used more than that in utilities, which is bullshit. I haven’t run up that much of a bill.”
“Dude, why don’t you wait and see what ‘I want to talk about, instead of jumping to conclusions?”
“No, I don’t have to wait. You’re a predictable motherf***er; I can see right thru you!”
This was the problem with Skip. You couldn’t have a rational or calm conversation with him. He was both judgmental and defensive. I guess he figured he could intimidate me by raising his voice. It was then that I realized that I had been avoiding this conversation because I knew the big blow-up was inevitable. I really didn’t want to talk to him about anything; I just wanted him gone.
“Skip, here’s the problem. You’ve worked out some formula in your head for what you think you should pay me. But for some reason you don’t think you have to talk to me about it. You’ve decided what your rent should be without talking to me! All you say is that’s the best that I can do!”
“Well that is the best I can do!”
“Well since you don’t want to talk about it, all I can say is that this ain’t working for me.
“Well I’m outta here,” he said, looking back like he thought I was gonna stop him. But my response stopped him dead in his tracks.
“How soon can you leave?”
“Well, as soon as I can pack”, he said slowly as he tried to size me up to see if I was serious.
“Good! Can can do it today?
"Yeah", he said
"Fine," I said, "then you can keep your $140.00, cause you'll need it"
He was startled into a brief silence as he headed back upstairs. But then he started going on the attack again, by getting personal, calling me being selfish, telling me that all my friends hated me, and that I was jealous of him and his job. He also told me I was a failure and that I was trapped in the past and that no woman would ever want me. That's the short version and I might have missed a few.
“You can call me anything you want Skip, but make it LONG DISTANCE”, I yelled back. “Tell your story walking my brother, and whatever you do, DON’T STOP PACKING!”
Two hours later he was packed up and driving off. He calmed down enough to say thank you and we shook hands and I wished him well. I don’t know where he went, and I really don’t care. He had used up every bit of patience and good will that I had for him. That’s when it became apparent that my best friend really hated me for being who I am. I had opened my doors to someone that had no intention of pitching in and helping me pay the bills. He got there and looked around and decided that I didn’t need any help and he was determined not to provide it. Where did I go wrong?
My friends on Facebook offered a lot of advice, when I asked the question,
“How long would you put up with a deadbeat roommate?”
The answers were humorous and informative. Jennifer said she’d been living with a deadbeat roommate for 8 years; but she was stuck with him because they were married. Others said I should have laid out the rules of the house in writing from the beginning. Another told me that I should have written up a letter of agreement for the rent as it was agreed to and signed, before he moved in. Some told me that they would only let him stay for one month before he had to go, if he didn’t pay rent. But another friend, Adrienne, said she might give a friend up to six months to work things out because in her words, “Friends are the family we choose”!
Adrienne’s words are beautiful and I agreed with her at first. But then I realized that I had been thinking the same way, when I opened my door to Skip. You end up giving friends a break because you love them and trust them, like family. But some of them don’t deserve it and you may not find out until it's too late. The best way to avoid a situation like this is to make it a business transaction from the get go.
- Agree to a specific rent amount that spells out what they are responsible for
- Ask for a security deposit, or work it into the rent
- Spell out in the agreement what the roommates responsibilities are, if they can’t pay the full rent. (i.e. Cutting the grass, vacuuming and cleaning the house, washing the car, doing the laundry.
- Spell out the rules of the house, like not leaving dirty dishes in the sink, and rinsing your dishes before you put them in the dishwasher; household chores, etc.
- Also spell out what food staples that you will pool your resources on like dishwashing liquid, laundry detergent, hand soap, paper towels/napkins, butter, ketchup and so on.
- Put everything in writing, stipulating when the rent is due, and get it signed and notarized.
These tips might not cover everything, but it’s a good start. In these tough economic times, more of us are considering opening our doors to roommates to share expenses. Simple rules and steps like these can keep you from going through the 4 month nightmare that I just experienced. But it also might save a friendship, because any true friend in need should have no problem signing a rental agreement. It’s better to make your expectations clear, instead of assuming that you’re on the same page, because people who owe you money often get amnesia about the promises they made.
As for me and Skip, we could be friends again in the future and maybe we could be neighbors. I feel somewhat guilty that we couldn't work things out, but I keep thinking of the saying at the nightclub when it's closing time,
"You ain't gotta go home, but you gotta get the hell outta here!"
2 comments:
Well told, Ray. I can relate somewhat. My dear friend Tony needed a job. My wife had a connection at her workplace. She barely knew Tony but hooked him up.
Within 90 days, his attitude soured, was fired and loudly, angrily and threateningly stomped out. Wife embarrassed. Friendship over (enforced by wife). Try to help a brother out...
Well written Ray. And I feel your pain.
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