What I Learned Having Roommates Again in my 50s

I just had the strangest month of my life in January. Just before the new year, I opted to rent a room from a couple in their early 30s. They seemed nice. Both had jobs. They have two cats in the home. The home was perfectly clean, but it was well-organized. I didn’t even have to have a bed, dresser, or nightstand! Seems perfect. Not only that, but it was only $500 a month – that covered utilities and internet. When I went to look at the space, I was there for over an hour chatting with them. While there was a 20-year gap in our ages, I got along with them well. The house is a duplex, and the landlord lives in the other half. So, two days later, I moved in. It would all go downhill from there.

My space

I crammed my life into one room. I did not feel welcome, upon moving in, to take up space in any other room of the house. There was no space made for me in the bathroom (I took over the towel rack at the end of the tub). I was given one small, skinny cupboard in the kitchen to cram all of my kitchen stuff. I felt like I was in the way from the start… this did not feel like home.

It wasn’t long before…

They started asking for favors. They don’t have a vehicle. I knew that going in. They take the bus everywhere or have a friend or two who will pick them up for stuff, so I thought nothing about it. They intended to get a vehicle with their income tax money in February. I didn’t learn until nearly a month in that neither of them even has a valid driver’s license. So, suddenly she needed a ride to work, he needed a ride to the dispensary, and they needed a ride to pick up food from the food pantry. I gave three rides, with no gas money given, and then started saying ‘no.”

The wife of the couple I was renting my room from is pregnant, so she no longer smokes weed, but the husband, I quickly learned, smokes like a fiend when he has weed on hand. Because of this, he ran out often. I lent him at least five joints worth of weed that I never got back…

They borrowed money from me. Started with just $1, which I realize now, I never got back. Then it was $10 for bus fare. Then another $25 for pizza. I got the $30 back before I moved out, thankfully.

To top that off, they bummed salsa off me for a meal. Me, when they had some soda, and I had a craving – I paid them for a can or two (like a buck or two a can). Is that the difference between our generations? I don’t know.

But let’s get back to the jobs

Oh, I forgot to mention the most nonsensical garbage of all. It was very shortly after I moved in that the husband was “put on suspension” from his pizza place job for not having reliable transportation. Though the bus would still pick them up on snowy days, they claimed it wouldn’t and would skip out on work. So, he basically lost his income. Rather than job hunting, his days were spent sitting in front of the television playing video games all day.

Then, about three weeks into the five weeks I lived there, she decided that she was too burned out at her activities aide job to work full-time anymore and dropped down to one weekend a month and on-call. Of course, 90% of the time they called her in, she said she couldn’t make it. So, now they have $14 and something an hour coming in for two days of work a month and expect to pay rent, buy a vehicle, feed themselves, feed their cats, and raise a baby. Plus, they wanted to get a puppy.

Luckily, my lease never came

I agreed to sign a one-year lease. But I never met the landlord, even when he was in the house one time while I was there. Just a few weeks in, we all found out the owner was looking to sell the house. The potential new owners talked of raising rent and adding pet fees. Illegally, the owner planned to write fresh new leases dating back to January 1 for us before the sale would go through – but I didn’t even pay rent to him, it went to my roommates' Cash App, and then she paid the full rent amount with mine as part of it. So, to make me only liable for $600 a month, he would have had to change the entire lease agreement… but no lease came.

Just more red flags

I was away one weekend, and the cats got into my room. The door had been damaged by the previous tenants. I asked for it to be fixed ahead of time–it wasn’t. So, the cats opened the door, screwed around in my room, and dumped my weed in my one-hitter container. I was paid back with a pre-roll… but I asked again for the door to be fixed, and weeks later, nothing… and my life changed again, and I was ready to move.

I don’t have any intention to need to move out on my own again, but if I did, the lesson I learned was to live alone.