Years ago, I lived with a bunch of strangers in a house and one of the roommates didn’t speak English. It was Christmas break, so I’m out of school and have tons of free time. I’m chilling in the common area reading–as I had been doing for a week–and this roommate, who I can’t communicate with, starts cooking something spicy on the stove. All of a sudden he starts panicking and yelling in his language. I hear pots banging and furious chopping of vegetables or something. This goes on for SIX hours. Yelling, chopping, yelling, chopping. Finally he comes out from the kitchen six hours later with a tiny bowl of soup. I thought okay, he must have prepped a week’s worth of meals and stored the rest. But later that night I leave out the back door and there’s this beef soup concoction strewn throughout the lawn. He had dumped pots worth of soup outside. To this day, I’m still not sure what happened with this guy in that kitchen.
She would pleasure herself in the shower and scream in ecstasy, not realizing that just because she couldn’t hear us didn’t mean we couldn’t hear her. It was very uncomfortable.
My old “roommate” (he was technically the homeowner but lived in a shack in the backyard) would come into my room early in the morning and watch me sleep. I was a bartender at the time so I would get home about an hour or so before he would be leaving for work. I was always thoroughly passed out when he’d leave and I’m a heavy sleeper so I did not notice this was happening for MONTHS until a guy I was seeing stayed up and caught him opening my door.
There was also a second door to my room that I could not open (it was locked from the other side). I don’t know what was going on in there but I’m fairly certain he was spying on me from that room as well. He was a complete crazy person.