New Yorkers Reveal Their Most Insane Roommate Horror Stories

new yorkers reveal their most insane roommate horror stories
Daniel Fishel/Thrillist

Unless you’re independently wealthy or incredibly lucky, having roommates comes with the territory of living in New York. Add in cramped quarters, impossibly high and increasing rents, and lack of private -- not to mention communal -- space, and tensions get high, quickly. Every New Yorker has a terrible roommate story, or several, but we’ve found some that will make your dish-breaking, loud sex-having, security deposit-thieving, Venmo-faking, toilet-paper stealer seem like a great match.

Poop steam room

“One of my roommates didn’t flush her diarrhea because she went [to the bathroom] right before a shower and didn’t want to ruin the water pressure. I used the restroom a few hours later, lifted the lid and was shook. Why, why, why would you want to poop steam yourself?!” -- Anonymous, Bed-Stuy

The accident

“My first summer living in NYC, I was in a 2-bedroom, 4-person apartment with one bathroom. It was student housing leased out for the summer to interns, and we were all randomly placed. Super cramped -- we all had lofted twin-size beds with our dressers underneath. One of the girls I lived with never did dishes and used the (only) bathroom from 8-9am every morning. Her biggest offense, though, was the night she brought back a random boy, got high, and started hooking up with him. Around 4am, we heard a crash -- the boy had rolled off of her lofted twin-size bed and fallen 6 feet to the floor. We had to call 911 to get him an ambulance.” -- Anonymous, Midtown East

The sex crasher

“I lived in a tiny two bedroom apartment in Greenpoint and was having a female guest over after a late night out. Around 3am, I got a text from my roommate, who I’d been avoiding after a few occasions of him trying to get me to go in for for ‘hookers and blow’ the few other times we socialized. Anyway, the text he sent read: ‘Do you need help fucking her?' It was time to move out.” -- Anonymous, Greenpoint

Mystery meat

“In the summer of 2013, after drinking copious amounts, my roommate stored a hunk of mystery meat in one of our empty kitchen cabinets. (Too tired to go all the way to the fridge, or didn't want it to get too cold? I don't know.) He evidently forgot about it, because it remained in the cabinet, untouched. The kitchen started smelling like something awful, but we couldn't locate the culprit -- until move-out day. After he had bailed, I was doing a final kitchen sweep, when I found the meat. I opened the cabinet and a swarm of flies, trying to get at the meat, shot out at me, trapping me in a stinky vortex for at least two seconds. It was kind of like that scene in Batman Begins, where Christian Bale discovers the Batcave. But instead of bats there were flies. Also, it was scarier.” -- Anonymous, Gramercy

Common room ruiner

“My roommate was randomly assigned by Columbia University’s grad housing. She waltzed in with her boyfriend and asked if it would be OK if he stayed a few days until his housing was sorted out. The following day I walked in on them having sex on the floor of the common room. She asked me if I wanted to join them in a threesome. That night they went out drinking and she threw up all over the entire common room without ever even making it to the toilet.” -- Anonymous, Morningside Heights

Pile of dead bees

“When I first moved back to NYC after college, I had a roommate who was getting an MFA at Pratt. She was cool and we were cool, and we had a great house in Williamsburg before it was a thing. A week after my boyfriend and I returned from vacation, she greeted me with, ‘I have to tell you something.’ Turns out, while I was gone, she found a beehive in our basement. And, according to her, ‘the bees were drunk, like stumbling around. I guess they were hibernating. And then they died.’ I started to head to my room, and she said, "I put them in a pile on the coffee table. Can you not move them? I'm going to use them in my art." Roommates should always come with excellent communication skills and mutually agreed upon storage systems, especially for dead things.” -- Racheline M., Williamsburg

A questionable taste in decor

“A friend-of-a-friend moved in with my girlfriend and me. The night she moved in we went out to a show and got a text that she’d decorated our ‘bare’ living room walls. We got home and there was a picture of babies kissing and a carved wooden butler holding out a tray. Everything smelled mildewy and we found out it was all from her parents’ Berkshires house that they’d sold years ago. We told her we needed to make group decisions about decor and she said she had to move out because she was being bullied. She even had her mom call us to say we were bullying her daughter. She moved out and insisted on getting her full security deposit back, even though removing her decorations ruined some of the paint.” -- Anonymous, Stuytown

Mystery pads

“I was taking out the bathroom trash when I saw a rolled up [menstrual] pad stuck to the bottom of the bin. Obviously a little grossed out, I group-texted my roommates asking them to make sure to wrap pads in a wrapper or TP next time. I got a reply back saying something to the effect of: ‘I don't use pads. But I might have used one for my armpits.’ I didn't even realize people could get so sweaty? This mystery still haunts me today.” -- Anonymous, Bed-Stuy

The newlyweds

“Last year, I moved in with two seemingly normal guys that I found on Craigslist. One of them asked me on our first night if he could have a friend stay for ‘three months’ while she was in from London for work. I didn’t mind, and he said she would sleep in his room, so I didn’t think anything of it. After three months, she didn’t leave -- but I did find out on Facebook that they got engaged. After another three months, she still hadn’t left. She was really sweet so I felt bad complaining, but she wasn’t paying rent and we were still splitting utilities three ways. Then they got married, and I finally asked if we could split utilities four ways and clear some kitchen space. They announced they were moving out (with five months left on our lease). They left, didn’t find a replacement, and racked up five months of rent on the empty room. The upside is that I wasn’t financially responsible for the room, and I got to use it as a yoga studio. The downside is that they stole all of our pots and pans when they moved out.” -- Anonymous, Bushwick

A shared taste in guys

“One night, I met a girl in the laundry room in my big 14th Street building. We were going out for a few weeks when, another night doing laundry, I met another great girl. After our laundry dried, we decided to go out for a cup of coffee and she wanted to change her clothes first, so we went to her floor. As we walked down the hall I thought, ‘Oh no, this is the same floor that the other girl was on... I hope it's not the same apartment. It turned out it was. They were roommates! I was hoping that the other girl wasn't there, but she was. They threw me out.” -- Robert B., Union Square

The rent thief

“My friend knew a friend of a friend who was subletting a room and I needed somewhere to live when I moved to NYC, so I moved in with this stranger. I gave the leaseholder the rent every month for the furnished room but one day I got a call at work from our third roommate saying that marshal's were at the apartment to evict us. He hadn’t been using our checks to pay the rent. I had to move all of my stuff out in one night.” -- Anonymous, Washington Heights

Only one key

“When I first moved to NYC, I didn't know anyone and needed a place, so I found someone who had a room to rent on Craigslist. She seemed nice when we met, and the price was reasonable for a nice building in Crown Heights. As soon as I moved in, she made me get rid of an armchair because she ‘just didn't like it’ in the living room and there was no room for it in my room. She also refused to give me a key to the claw lock, only the deadbolt, so every day when I got home from work, I would have to press the buzzer and wait for five minutes until she felt like letting me in because she insisted on locking the claw lock. She also told me I wasn't allowed to have people come over, ever. One time my boyfriend came up and she ran around screaming. She allowed her own boyfriend to sleep over only once every other week.” -- Jyssica S., Crown Heights  

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Melissa is a writer living in New York City who is definitely the best roommate her girlfriend has ever had. Follow her on Twitter and Instagram.