My patience has worn thin with the Couch Cushion, who has a name, but I have been calling him the Couch Cushion behind his back for so long now that I do not remember his first name (WTF?). He has never been on time with the rent, paying December’s $350 in January and January’s rent in February. My actual roommate spends very little time in his room, and so I am left dealing with Couch Cushion.
I took him in on the word of a mutual friend, and Couch Cushion was supposed to occupy my couch for no longer than three months. Three months have passed, and he has never paid his rent on time (WTF). With Dell and HP computer boxes stacked in the corner of my living room (remnants of some job he apparently had at one time), his clothes in bags in another corner, Couch Cushion seems quite at home watching the DirecTV that I pay for monthly. I no longer watch TV in my own living room, and I don’t have a television in my room. I can handle that, but when Couch Cushion (Double C) bragged that he’d purchased a ticket to go to the NBA Allstar game in Dallas without having mentioned the month and a half of rent he owes me (WTF!?), I was seriously put out. But, I didn’t say anything. I also didn’t mention that he hasn’t so much as mentioned spending any time with one of his kids who lives in Dallas because he’s been so excited about finding a red-headed White woman–his favorite (WTF?!). I also kept my peace about him not paying for a ticket to visit his other child in Seattle. Perhaps there aren’t enough “fire crouches” out there to warrant a visit.
When I leave for work in the mornings, he’s on the couch. When I return home from work, he’s on the couch. When I leave to wash clothes and the towels that he switches two and three times a week (WTF?!), he’s on the couch. When I return from washing the towels and clothes, he’s on the couch. And, it’s the same with regard to food. Last week I came home to him eating a spaghetti pot full of popcorn (it would have been too much effort to clean a normal bowl or do the dishes) and drinking the biggest cup he could find of the last of the Minutemaid juice that he didn’t put in on (WTF!!!!!?). Friends visited me from out of state, and he shamelessly and without invitation involved himself in each conversation. At one point, he offered me a few pulls on a joint that he had somehow afforded (WTF?).
I could no longer hold my tongue. I spoke with my paying rooommate, and we confronted Double C about his priorities. He lay on the couch as we described how trifling and immature he’s been. He never raised up from his comfortable position. He agreed that he should pay what he owes, and that was that. During her visit with me, my sister made stew for me before she left. The day after the intervention with Double C, upon returning home from a ten hour shift at work with that stew dancing on my tastebuds, I found Double C had left me nothing but broth and a few carrots (W T F!!!!?!?!?). After being talked out of shooting him in his sleep, I decided to avoid him for the rest of the night. The next morning, on my way to work, Couch Cushion stopped me to ask whether he could borrow my gym membership card because his had been canceled (WOW! WTF?). I reminded him that his ID wouldn’t match the name on the card, and I gave him a 7-day pass instead.
I spent the day at work trying to figure a way to poison him with some of my food that he eats without being caught. I didn’t want to get blood on my couches, so shooting or stabbing or bludgeoning him was out of the question. I considered, seriously, strangling him, but I couldn’t come up with a good enough alibi. So, I decided to tell him that I needed him out by this weekend. He offered no real defense, but he did say that he could probably have February’s rent by the end of March (WTF). Perhaps if this “struggling actor” had been spending more time job hunting and less time playing hearts, I could be more lenient. I told him, “Thanks, but no thanks.”