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| Why are friends such s---bags? |
To be completely blunt (as if I’m ever not), I’m in the type of mood where I feel like packing all my shit and finding a place somewhere in the mountains. You know, where I can abandon humanity AS A WHOLE! Why? Because people fucking suck! They’re fucking unreliable sons of bitches. I feel like I’m the only fucking person on God’s green earth who does everything in his power not to fuck people over. I’ve destroyed my life in many, many ways—but that’s the whole point. That’s ME. I can do whatever the fuck I want to myself. That doesn’t affect other people. If you try to fuck up other people’s lives, you deserve to go to hell in my opinion.
OK, perhaps I should explain why I’m such an ultra-depressive, ultra-hostile mood. I just moved into a new apartment at the beginning of the month. I thought that would be the answer to my problems. I was living in a studio apartment beforehand, and had to handle the rent on my own. It wasn’t a bad price: $716 per month. However, I got laid off from my job a couple years ago. Ever since then, I’ve been temping and collecting unemployment in between assignments. I would love to land a permanent job sometime soon, but in this horrible recession—that’s a lot easier said than done. Therefore, I haven’t been making a ton of money. Handling the rent, the credit card bills, the electric bills, the cable bills, and my cell phone bill became way too overwhelming—considering the money I’ve been making.
A couple months ago, a friend of mine called me up asking if he can move in with me. At the time I was living in the studio, so I told him that I wouldn’t be able to fit two people in the apartment. Since I was planning to move out anyway, I figured an easy solution would be for the two of us to get a 2-bedroom apartment together. So I went apartment-hunting. I’m not very fussy when it comes to choosing a place. Being a guy all I need are four walls, a roof, and a fridge full of beer to keep me satisfied. Therefore, I was more concerned about finding a place that was cheap. Well, eventually I lucked out and was able to find a place that was cheap AND nice AND spacious. As far as I’m concerned, it’s a fucking palace. Naturally, I jumped on the opportunity.
I met up with the landlord, and he seemed like a cool and down-to-earth guy. He wasn’t your stereotypical surly Eastern European landlord. He was just a regular Joe with a Jersey accent. My friend was having some doubts about being able to pay the rent each month, but since he was able to get his parents to write out the check for the security deposit—I was feeling a bit more optimistic.
Well, I moved into the new place at the beginning of the month. I’ve had the place to myself for the last 10 days, which has been pretty cool. My friend said that he still needed to pack up his stuff, and that he’ll let me know when he’ll move in. Well, days went by and he never did. Finally, I got a text message from him yesterday saying that he changed his mind about moving in, because he wouldn’t be able to make the rent at the end of month. Naturally, I fucking flipped out. I sent him an angry text message back and left him a voicemail. The son-of-a-bitch still hasn’t called me back. He’s probably afraid of…ya know…me ripping his fucking head off and pissing down his neck.
I’m aware that my friend doesn’t make a hell of a lot of money at his job. That’s why I kept asking him over and over again: Are you sure you’ll have money for the rent? Are you sure you’ll have money for the rent? He kept assuring me that it was no problem.
The red flags were up from the beginning. First of all, he’s never had his own place. Secondly, the man in his 20’s, but has the personality of a fucking 10-year-old. Thirdly, he practically gets paid minimum wage at his job. But I put myself in his shoes. When I first started living on my own, I didn’t care if I only had 100 bucks left over per month (after the rent and bills were paid). ANYTHING was better than living with my parents. My parents are nice people, but independence is independence.
In a way, I blame myself, but what can I say? This is the kind of shit we do for friends. We put our trust in them, even if they don’t have a trustworthy bone in their bodies. I remember when I went to see Sideways in the theater. I was watching that scene near the end, where Thomas Haden-Church’s character talks Paul Giamatti into sneaking into the waitress’ house and grabbing his wallet—since his wedding rings were in there. I recall an old lady behind me whispering to her friend, “The things people do for their friends.” That simple comment truly resonated with me. Because that IS the shit we do for our friends. In that movie, Giamatti’s character was kind of an uptight guy, who didn’t believe in taking many risks in his life. I’m sure people watching that film were thinking, why would a guy like him do something that stupid just to help his friend? Let’s face it; we’ve ALL done stupid things to help our friends. I don’t give a shit how fucking intelligent you are. No one is immune to it. This is proof that God has a sense of humor. There are people on this earth who have never been in bad relationships. There are people who are content with their family. But nobody, and I mean nobody, can honestly say that all their friends are reliable and trustworthy people. That’s just the way it goes.
Now, I have to go hunting for another roommate, because I damn sure ain’t gonna handle paying $950 per month on my own. I wanted my friend to move in with me, because who wouldn’t rather move in with a friend than with somebody they don’t know? But now I’m forced to choose the latter option and place an ad for a new roommate, since none of my friends are looking for new places at the moment.
Like I mentioned earlier, it’s times like these when I truly hate people and hate humanity and wish everybody would fucking die. Why can’t everyone be as reliable as me? I would get stricken with guilt for eons and eons, if I were to pull a stunt like this. If the motherfucker didn’t think he was gonna be able to make the rent, he should’ve assured me beforehand. We’ve been planning this whole fucking thing for two months already! Apparently, he thinks this is some sort of fucking game. Like finding a new roommate is gonna be easy. And I’m fucking nervous as shit, because my ultra-awesome landlord is probably gonna lose trust in me. I mean, it hasn’t even been a fucking month, and my roommate pulled out on me? What’s he gonna fucking think? I went through much stress to move into this new place. My mom was nice enough to give me 300 bucks to pay for movers. To add insult to injury, my former landlord informed me that I won’t be getting my whole security deposit back, because apparently I damaged the carpet a bit. Why doesn’t someone just put a bullet in my fucking head right fucking now?
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