9.20.2012

Crazy B*tch Sessions, Pt. II

I feel like it's been long enough since my last post about the crazies I have encountered throughout the years. It's never a bad time for such a story, I just want to space them out enough to build up the suspense leading up to the next 'Crazy B*tch' entry. I know plenty of individuals that qualify, so it'll be a long time until I run out of stories to tell. I even mentioned to a coworker today that I should write a book about it. I'll call it '50 Shades Of Crazy', with fifty true tales of the most bizarre miscreants I have met in my time on this earth. There will be far less of the kinky details that most women are getting from Mr. Grey, but much more of the humorous, shocking and purely ridiculous moments in my life that are made unforgettable by certain lunatics. How crazy are these people? Let's just say I could win the Pulitzer Prize with a book like that.

The book's cover would likely have something like this on it.

The focus of my disdain for today's segment is someone that I am extremely thankful I will never have to deal with again. She is a miserable wench that I can also gratefully state that I never had the displeasure of calling her a dating prospect. I feel like God wasted a pretty face and a nice body when he cloaked this demon with such blessings. I'm sure God's reasons were justified at the time; who am I to cast judgment on the infallible one? All I'm saying is that somewhere between her creation and the last time I saw this succubus, something went horribly wrong. Luckily, I'll never have the need to find out what. So are you ready? Too bad if you're not, because it's time for:

CRAZY B*TCH SESSION
Pt. II - René

There's a little bit of a lead-up to really get this story rolling, so bear with me. There was a revolving door of roommates in the apartment I was living in between the later months of 2010 until the end of June of 2011. I was living with a friend in the Navy who was easy-going, great to hang out with and neither of us gave each other any unnecessary shit. We'll refer to him as 'Benoit' to maintain anonymity. The vital subtraction of the master creep we were living with was one of the greatest decisions we ever made. Unfortunately, it took a major toll on the affordability of our apartment. In order to make up for the lost rent contribution, Benoit suggested a solution that sounded quite logical at the time. He had a brother, who we'll call 'Lucifer' for his ability to summon the demon in question, who was willing to move up from Florida to be the third roommate. Within a couple of weeks, he was on board and moved in, and things were a little less stressful financially.

Lucifer was even more laid back than Benoit, which at first was fine, yet it quickly became a hindrance and a drain on our resources. He was quickly showing signs of being unreliable, and it wasn't only evident to Benoit and I. It didn't take long for Lucifer to find a girlfriend, and that's where René comes in. Alright, let's stop here for a moment. Yes, her name is René. Only one 'e' at the end. Am I mistaken when I make the assertion that René is a popular name for a Frenchman? Her parents must have left off that last 'e' for 'enablers', because clearly that's what they are. Anyway, her presence in the apartment was steadily becoming more frequent and less desired. She was all of 85 pounds soaking wet with buckshot in her pockets. Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard, and her laugh was exponentially worse. In small doses, she could be tolerated, but this was soon to be no longer a possibility.

Without warning, Lucifer invited her to move in with us, including her obnoxious little pug. Normally, I don't mind the breed, but when paired with/raised by pure evil, it becomes a viable option for punting practice. Not long after moving in (I'd venture to guess about two weeks or so), she adopted a second pug which she automatically assumed would be welcomed into the home. I wasn't thrilled, but I also wasn't paying the majority of rent, so even with the longest tenure of residence there, I had little say in the matter. Benoit let it slide, so I did the same. Well, these two pugs were loud, annoying and pissing anywhere they wanted to because she was far too lazy to take them for walks when it was clear they needed it. They actually marked their territory twice on one of my comforters, only to dribble down to the carpet to leave a ravishing yellow stain to clean up. I kept my mouth shut the first time, but made my bitterness clear on the second go-round. I'm pretty sure this was when things began to crumble.

Benoit then received orders that would take him to Florida, effective almost immediately. I can't fault the guy, honestly...when duty calls, it's out of his control. I was scrambling to find a place to live, and at the time, I had very limited options. The most logical choice at the time was to temporarily find a cheap two-bedroom place to live with Lucifer and René, all while keeping an ongoing search for an escape from what I knew would be a disaster-in-the-making. We did some apartment hunting, and to cut out mundane details, we found something with a lot of promise and potential. When it came time to get names on the lease, she suddenly wouldn't cooperate because of a 'bad credit history', which I later found out wasn't bad...it was atrocious. So Lucifer and I got our names on the lease and quietly kept her and the pugs along for the ride without the apartment complex knowing. I know I shouldn't have let that happen, but strangely it helped me later on that I did, but I'll get to that shortly.

The third weekend in June came along, and it was moving day. I rented a U-Haul, had all of my things packed in a timely fashion, ready to be transported from one place to the next, and I was on a mission. René and Lucifer, on the other hand, were so unprepared for the move, I would have been better off with two crippled deaf, dumb and blind infants. They both left for reasons I still can't understand on more than one occasion, leaving myself, the Scotsman, Biff, and a future 'Crazy B*tch' to be named later (leaving you in even more suspense...mission accomplished) to move all three of our belongings. Some people said I should have just left their stuff for them to eventually take care of, but I would have had to take the financial hit if the apartment wasn't spotless upon inspection, and I wasn't having any of that. Once again, some details can be skipped, everything was eventually moved out, and it was time to do the cleanup before inspection. This is where the situation truly went downhill...more like down a rocky cliff.

Imagine that as a U-Haul.

Lucifer and René were keeping the door to Benoit's old room shut when I was home, and I wasn't really concerned with why when I had ten tons of things to move out of there. The day I went in to clean, the horror that ensued was unimaginable. Now I make it sound like there was a dead body in there, but in hindsight, I may have preferred that. At least I would have a solid alibi, which they couldn't say the same. I am going from room to room, I open the door and there are five separate yellow stains on the carpet. One of them was damn near neon. It looked like it was stained by a broken glow stick, and was just as impossible to scrub out. No matter what we did to clean it, I knew for sure the carpet would need to be replaced in the entire apartment. Little did I know, there was animal urine found in four different rooms, not just mine and Benoit's, when the apartment did the inspection. Considering there was never a pet in that place until she moved her little mutant mutts in, she was responsible for all of it. When I was eventually charged for the damages, she refused to pay, stating that I can't prove they were from her pugs. Considering the great rapport Benoit and I had with the landlord, we had someone of importance backing up our claims, which was nice.

So to cut out some more useless info, we were living in an uncomfortable cloud of miserable disagreement for a few days. Some of the things we disagreed on were:
  • The bill for carpet replacement
  • Bills for power, internet, gas and cable
  • The use of food that was eaten, yet not purchased, by the other
The list could go on, but you get the point. The arguments against the bills were that they believed they didn't owe me for any of it. This includes past bills from the first apartment and the current bills. As for the food, I never said a word to them each time they went to town on some bit of groceries I bought, but once I had a beer or two from the eighteen-pack they bought, it was instantly a crime. So five days and nights had come and gone. Day six was coming up, and I got up early as I always do for work. That's when it happened.

What happened? Oh, I got a front-and-back three page note from René taped to the front door knob. If I had the scanner to post the note itself, I would. Maybe another day I can get that taken care of. Until then, you'll have to take my word for it. This note went on and on about how terrible of a roommate I am, how much of a horrible person I am to be around, and the reassurance that I won't be reimbursed for owed bills. It was an extremely redundant note with poor spelling and grammar and an overall lack of substantiality that would only be fully appreciated when read in person. After reading it, I made the decision: I'm moving out immediately. That meant breaking the lease, which I'll briefly touch on those details soon.

That's right. I lived with those bottom-feeders for six days in the new place before moving out. One of the best decisions I've ever made. It's right up there with starting up this blog. Admit it, you agree. I spoke with the aforementioned 'Crazy B*tch' to be named later, and within a day, I was moving my things out of the new place and into the new-new place with her. I took the issues at hand to the apartment complex, explained everything in great detail, gave them copies of the note I was given, and had her reported as an unlawful occupant who is unlawfully housing pets, giving her thirty days to vacate the premises, otherwise she'd be escorted out by law enforcement. After all of my belongings were out of there, I didn't hesitate to make their lives a little tougher. They quickly forgot that all of the utilities were in my name, so when I cut the internet, then the gas, then the power...well let's just say I wasn't very well-liked.

Not a UFO sighting. This is the two of them powerless in the powerless apartment.

So breaking the lease meant we owed the next sixty days worth of rent, plus the penalty for breaking the lease which is two more months rent. I also had the bills I was already trying to catch up on because they refused to pay me. In the end, the three of us owed close to $5000. I was surprised to find that they paid their two-thirds for the month of July, but as I expected, they skipped town and didn't pay a single dime more after that. With my name on the lease, I was left responsible to cover the full amount if they didn't pay. So roughly two months and $4000 later (including every penny I had in my savings account), I saved my credit three days before it was due when I handed the apartment the last check owed.

Basically, I was a reasonable, compliant, generous roommate that was being taken advantage of by two kids that never want to grow up and be actual adults. She was the puppet-master controlling Lucifer the whole time, so I put the majority of the blame on her. René is the absolute epitome of a waste of life. She's a worthless, heartless, spoiled, evil wretch of a girl that deserves many of the horrible things that happen to all the good people out there. I hope nobody I know ever has to come in contact with her, because you'd be wasting your time, energy and breath on this poor excuse for a human being. Without question, she's up at the top of my list of crazy b*tches, and it will take something extreme and epic to move someone new above her.

I almost forgot to mention some elements of the story I had earlier mentioned. Keep in mind, I didn't find any of this out until after I broke the lease. Why was her credit so bad? Well it turns out she had moved to California and ran up charges on several credit cards, which she never ended up paying off, and in order to ditch those bills, she moved back in with mommy and daddy. After a brief stint there, she moved in with some friends, and to cut a long story down, she bailed on them and refused to pay her end, breaking a lease once before. As for the eventual move-in the the first apartment? That wasn't entirely by her choice, since she was kicked out of her parents' house for mooching off of them too long. All of this would have been great to know before moving in with them, but it is what it is.


So there you have it. Crazy b*tch René. For future reference, please keep in mind the only reason I censor that term is I do not enjoy referring to any woman in such a derogatory manner, so with respect to women in general, I make that one small edit. If it wasn't for all the amazing women out there, I'd refrain from censorship there. That's the only thing I'll keep restraint on when it comes to Kristen, René and any of the future subjects I'll reflect on. Keep checking for the next installment...it's sure to be a doozy.

D.


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