Psycho Roomie, Part III

The first two months of living with Suzi felt very much like the worst roller coaster ride. Ever. Betty and I began to find out just how weird this chick was. Now, everyone has their little idiosyncrasies. Everyone has different levels of street-smart or book-smart. And some are a very special kind of stupid or naive. Whichever you prefer. You simply cannot live with someone and be perfectly fine with everything that they do. I'm pretty sure that even after being married for 33 years, my parents have at least one thing about the other that drives them up a wall. Most things you can live with. Or learn to compromise. But what if you wind up living with someone who doesn't really seem to understand the word "compromise"? I was about to find out.

I mentioned in Moving in with Psycho, that Betty and I noticed that Suzi was prone to believing something yet unwilling to show proof. This showed up early on. Suzi's biggest thing in the beginning was fighting about the PG&E bill. (Oh, for those reading that are not from California, PG&E is Pacific Gas & Electric; see: Erin Brockovich or San Bruno gas line explosion. Yep, that's our big shot energy company). She insisted that when not in use, that our computers be turned off. That if we're not in our rooms, any fans or lights should not be left on. This made sense to a point. Betty and I agreed (you'll find this happened a lot) that with the computers, being that we were college kids and all and on and off our computers all the time, that leaving the CPU on was fine. We both agreed that turning off the monitors and printers saved a few pennies, but the CPU doesn't use that much if in "sleep mode". Suzi disagreed. She kept telling us how horrible it was for our computers to be left on all the time. We argued right back that it's just as bad to turn them on/off all the time. Suzi insisted to the point of no return - until I finally had to scream at her that it was "none of her fucking business", that it didn't make that big of a difference on the bill. That shut her up. For about a week. (sigh)

If it wasn't the computers, it was the other thing - fans/lights on in our rooms if we weren't in them. I kept a 12" oscillating fan in my room. I've slept with a fan since I was a kid; I like it. It helps drown out sounds of the world and circulates the air. Suzi got on my case more than once about my oscillating fan being on when I wasn't in my room.

Now, the thing that interested me was that Suzi would insist on the rules above. Yet leave every damn light in the house on, and keep the a/c at 68 degrees. I'm serious. Every light the apartment - kitchen, dinette area, hallway, and living room. Not to mention her bedroom - three lamps. One of which had the fucking clapper that didn't work for beans. And she had the balls to get on our cases about whether or not the CPU's on our computers were on or off. Anyone comprehend this? Because years later, this shit still baffles me.

Every week, the same stupid arguments would come up. Every week, the three of us would be screaming at each other. Usually Betty and myself against Suzi. Nothing was ever resolved. I was really beginning to regret my moving decision. I was not raised in a household with fighting, especially screaming matches. Having to hear it all of a sudden every week was sickening to me. But what doesn't kill you makes you stronger . . . right? In between the fighting things would be okay. There were days the three of us got a long great, laughing, joking around. For instance, one lazy afternoon the three of us enjoyed a lunch together at the apartment. Suzi was playing with her new snap bracelet. (Um, those that grew up in the 80's might remember those horrible snap bracelets. I think schools actually had to ban those things. Fits right in with all the other crap cluttered in this chick's room.). Betty and I teased her a little about it; I think I said, "The 80's called, and they want their bracelet back." She just thought it was the coolest thing. Ever. Possibly since sliced bread. After about 15 minutes of joking around, suddenly Suzi was offended. And all fun subsided. More arguing ensued. Over a damn bracelet. Oy ve.

At one point, Betty and I decided to plan a trip to Europe for the next summer. We thought about telling Suzi about it, but she'd already told us how she had absolutely no desire to ever leave the continental United States. (Seriously, she had no culture). So we decided not to tell her our plans. We bought a map and put it up in Betty's room, using tacks to pinpoint the places we really wanted to go. One afternoon, Suzi comes home while Betty and I are talking - about our trip. We simply switch topics with ease. Suzi asks us if we're talking about our big trip to Europe. Uh . . . what? It took us a day to figure out how she found out. Betty had left me a note on my pillow. The only way Suzi could have possibly found out about our trip was to gone in my room to read said note. So we set up a trap. Sure enough, the only way Suzi found out about the trap was because she'd read the note . . . left on a pillow. She sure respects privacy.

By the time August hit, things were not going so well. For some reason, Suzi was hell bent on pissing off Betty. Me, not so much. In the midst of all the arguing, I was having boyfriend trouble. At the same time things got ugly in the apartment, I stopped hearing from my guy for two weeks. Which in college-kid speak, is forever. Betty came home from a church camp just before school started up. And being that she was around kids for a week, she got sick. Suzi wouldn't let up, telling Betty to "not infect her because she couldn't afford to get sick". No matter how we explained that it was practically inevitable that we, as roommates, might get sick, Suzi kept it up. Basically she told Betty not to touch anything. Or breathe for that matter. Oh that did it. Fight fight fight. After enough screaming I finally went to my room. A few minutes later, I hear a noise. I came out of my room, peeked around the hall to the kitchen and gasped. Betty had Suzi pinned against the kitchen wall. Betty is 5'7ish. I'm 5'3. Betty was more like 5'9 in the shoes she was wearing that night. I knew that if I got directly in the middle I'd get pummeled. By Betty. By accident. I did a choke hold on Betty and dragged her off Suzi. Then got in the middle. I swear there was fire in Betty's eyes and smoke coming out her ears. Suzi was suddenly shouting about calling the cops for battery and filing charges, and fighting wasn't going to solve anyones problems. Betty got on her cell phone to call her mom . . . grabbed a bag and shoved clothes in it. Betty's mom heard the last half of what happened. Suzi practically chased Betty out of the apartment. Betty shouted how she was moving out.

From the minute that Betty crossed the threshold to the outside world, Suzi chased after her - yelling about how running away wouldn't solve the issue, and to come back to work it out.

Oh. My. God. Really?