I am ever so grateful that my days of having roommates have long passed! Geez, there's been a lot of them, but these two are the most nodeworthy...

  • Paula had been clean and sober a few years longer than me when we met. She was a single mom who, back then, ran a small daycare from our house. Those were cool times, but the money wasn't enough to satisfy her addiction for flashy clothes and pricey luxury items. So, she started dancing instead. At first it was just topless, but before long she was doing lap dances and worse. Worse? Yeah. She started making friends with some of the lowlife customers she met in the clubs where she worked. Then she got careless and attracted at least two stalkers (that I know of). One night one of these maniacs even tried to break into the house - He cut the main phone wire before smashing my easily accessible window, but was unaware that I had my own seperate line. (Can you say "911"? I knew you could!) She put everyone in our household, including her own daughter, at serious risk.


  • Tristan was a semi-reclusive throwback from the 70's. He was born with mild fetal alcohol syndrome, which gave him his very own distinct style of day-to-day living. I ended up nicknaming him "Captain Caveman" not because he was a superhero, but because he was primitive to the point that eventually the health department condemned his house! It was that bad - I swear on my life! Put it this way... most of my free time that first month was spent cleaning. When I first moved in there was a quarter inch of filth covering a large portion of the bathroom and kitchen surfaces. The living room floor sagged. The basement, where he slept, had mold growing on the walls and floors. So, why did I even move in there? The foremost reason was because Tristan let me bring my black lab and ferret. Plus, it was only a five minute drive to work. Then again, I did feel kind of sorry for him. Even though he was a pig, intellectually he was interesting.