Was having a conversation with a pal of mine--and he brings up an old... mutual--person we know. I thought I'd share this story for you... as a cautionary tale of sorts. So prepare for a decent read. I hope to hold your interest. So--this happened back when I was in my early 20's. I had already been in Dallas for almost a year; I had a small one-bedroom apartment very close to the airport. One day--I get a text message from an old pal from back home (San Antonio.) He tells me he's in Dallas for work. We hang out and chill, I introduce him to my girlfriend (British girl; this has context later) and we have good fun. We don't hang out very often--I have school, a part-time job, a full-time girlfriend to take care of and other friends; and he works/lives on the other side of town. So--to save some time--one day I get a call from him. He asks me if I can pick him up from the hospital--of course I say yes. I find out he had a car accident--car is totaled. Now that he has no car and has an injury, he can't work. He's panicking on what he's going to do--but here come's Sam, the nice guy--I tell him he can crash on my couch for a bit until he gets back on his feet. He's grateful at this moment, almost in tears. Gemma (my girlfriend--has a bad feeling, I should have listened...) Sooner rather than later--the novelty wore off. It lasted 5 months. The First Incident: I had class 3 times a week and I worked five days a week, and I also had my own business training people how to box. Had a good time doing that; but only a few customers; mostly kids--was good date money. I didn't ask him for money at first, mostly because I was being a good friend; and, I only had 3 rules: - Give me time with my girlfriend - Clean up after yourself - Don't smoke my cigarettes He was good about the last one--but the other two... Anyway--one day I wake up for class, I find him playing some game (on my pc btw) and I ask him if he can clean up the apartment today while I'm out. I would be in class during the early afternoon, spend my evening with Gemma, and go to work at 10:30. He says sure yeah I'll clean up. I head out for my day. I come back home at 3 am--and I find him sitting in the same place--playing the same game--and nothing is clean. I wasn't all that mad--at first, but it happened more and more often... it got to the point where I would clean up after him, just because I didn't want to see it anymore. I sat him down and told him that he needed to clean up after himself because I was really tired of seeing it. He assures me he'll do it. One time, I spend the night with Gemma at her dorm; we wake up and we go back to my apartment to get some anime dvds... I open the door--and he's in the same place, playing the same game.. and nothing--is cleaned. At this point I got angry and said he needed to clean because I don't ask him for any money, he doesn't pay for anything--the least he can do is clean. He says sure yeah--I pulled the internet from the wall. He has this look of terror... and I tell him now. Gemma just looks at him with anger. She had such beautiful blue eyes--but I would have never wanted her to look at me that way. The Second Incident: Gemma and I made plans to have a date night (pre-Netflix and chill, if you know what I mean) I asked him to not make any plans to stay. He agreed, and I would take him to the mall. I pick up Gemma and we go home. I agreed to call him, and it would only be maybe 2-3 hours. We're in the bedroom--enjoying our... date. After a while--we hear the tv in the living room, very low. Gemma looks at me angrily, not angry with me--but she knows what that means. I go out to see--I already know the answer though... he's sitting there on the couch (literally about 10 feet from my bedroom door) watching Evangelion. I ask him nicely--what he's doing back so soon. He says he got 'bored.' Okay--fine, I ask him why he decided to come back since Gemma and I are still on our date. He says he wont make any noise. I tell him as nicely as I can--that's not the point. We want our privacy. He tries to guilt me by saying he has no where to go--I tell him, look just leave for maybe an hour, go to the pool or outside, I don't care where--just let me have some time with my girl. I don't know if he was being rude on purpose--or just wanted to mess with me... but he kept coming up with excuses, when I just wanted him to leave. It was as though--everything I said, was just having no effect. Every friendly suggestion I made was met with no, I don't wanna do that... or it's boring, or some random excuse--he knew for a fact I wanted him to leave--but he would not budge. I even straight told him to just leave--but he refused to even move. Eventually Gemma came out angry and said we should just go back to her dorm. We get dressed and leave. Gemma is really upset by this point--she tells me I should just kick him out; as he doesn't help much with groceries, doesn't pay any rent and is a slob. I tell her I'll get rid of him after our vacation in a few weeks. The Final Incident: Gemma and I wanted to go to a little town called Mineral Wells--nothing fancy, but they have amazing natural mineral water (and a haunted hotel.) We're so excited to go and spend a vacation together; we think of nothing else for weeks. It was during Summer--so no class; I put extra hours at work and added a few more days of boxing training for my kids; and request the little time off I had accumulated for our little four day vacation. He had just started dating this girl--and Gemma and I are enjoying our apartment again. He comes only to sleep and it's rare now; he's getting back on his feet too and is out of our hair. The night before we're set to go, he says his girlfriend is going to pick him up and he's gonna spend the night with her. Gemma stays with me and we do something we haven't done in a while--we fall asleep in the living room watching anime; one of our favorite things to do together. The next day, we wake up and get our things ready to go... I'm looking for my keys... looking and looking... but I can't find them. We search everywhere--but we can't find them. I try to call him... hoping maybe he's seen them--nothing, no answer... we continue to look. Soon hours roll by and I'm worried. They're not in my truck, they're not in the apartment, Gemma doesn't have them, they're not in our bags. I call him again--nothing. Eventually it's getting later and later. We realize--it's now too late to go. We order pizza, and happy we at least have each other. We played games on my 360, and go to bed. Following day--we try to look again... but nothing. At this point--I'm no longer worried, I'm thinking he has my keys--but why would he? I don't know--but he has to have them; they're just not here. I try calling--nothing, no answer. Time continues to roll by and Gemma and I are becoming increasingly more angry. Finally--at 1 in the morning--he answers my call. The first thing he asks is "Why do you keep blowing up my phone?" I ask him once... Do you have my keys? I will never forget what he said. "Yeah! I lost my house key--so I took your truck keys." I felt--something I had never felt in my entire life... Gemma felt it too... we pondered how we were going to murder this idiot. Not only did he lose the key to my apartment--but he took it upon himself to take my truck keys. I tell him angrily that Gemma and I were going on vacation! He says "Oh that was this week?" I lost it. I said yes that was THIS week. I was angry--I told him what if I had to work? I would have lost my job because of you! He was quiet--to this day, I don't think he really understood the severity. --but the part that boiled my blood--my poor baby girl--she was crying. She was looking forward to this vacation. Her beautiful blue eyes--saddened by someone sabotaging our plans, without a single care. I told him he better return my keys now or his stuff is ending up on the grass. He shows up about thirty minutes later. He apologizes--but we're not having it. Gemma is furious--screaming in his face; her British accent was almost incomprehensible to me. She yelled some extremely vulgar things to him--but what made me angry--was he began to yell back. Not able to accept the responsibility of his actions--he took it upon himself to yell at her--a guy standing an inch shorter than me--yelling at a tiny 5'4 British girl. My girl. I don't care if you're ten feet tall, have a gun, or an army behind you--no one yells at my girl. I told him--do not yell at her, she is not the problem. I told him to get his stuff out now, he was not welcome here any longer. He had 20 minutes to grab his things and leave. He tried to guilt me, saying he had no where to go, and I couldn't just kick him out like this... I said, look bro--I have a job I go to every day, I have school that I love, I have an amazing girl that loves me--I have my own truck, my own place--I have everything and you have nothing--leave or get wrecked, that is your only warning. He wouldn't have wanted to tangle with me; 5'8--190 lbs and a golden gloves boxer. He left and slammed the door--I couldn't help but smile. I ended up taking some non-paid time off to keep my promise to Gemma. We had a wonderful time--and she eventually moved in with me. I never heard from him again--good riddance. He's lucky. I had never lost my temper with anyone--he had the misfortune of being the one and only. So--beware. Just because you think you know someone--a friend... that doesn't mean they're good to live with. I will never, for the rest of my life--have a roommate again.