Single White Female (But Without the Stalking Part)

My current roommate is bat shit crazy.

Now, I know people throw the term around loosely (“Dude, my colon just went bat shit crazy after I ate that four day-old Indian food), however, my roommate is truly bat shit crazy (I just Googled the origin of “bat shit crazy” and no one seems to know where it came from. There are some very heavy duty theories involving Native Americans collecting guano in caves, the guano containing parasites, and the parasites attacking the humans therefore making the host “bat shit crazy”. In my mind, “bat shit crazy” looks like someone crawling around on their hands and knees with cartoon popped-out eyes licking bat shit off the ground. Like how Christopher Lloyd looked in “Who Framed Roger Rabbit”, but instead of getting rolled over by a steam roller, he licks poop off the ground).

I started writing this piece a few days ago when I thought the craziness had reached it’s peak.

It was far from over.

Right now, I’m sitting in my house watching cops escort my roommate away.

Let me give you a little back story. I did not chose to live with, let’s call her, Gary Busey. I live in a big communal-living style house in downtown Austin. She is a 47 year-old woman who recently moved from Virgina to study Eastern medicine in Austin (surprise!). Gary Busey was already living here when I moved in. I thought there was something different about her (like when she would stare at me for long stretches of time for no apparent reason), but brushed it off as her being interested in me (a trait I inherited from my father where I erroneously believe that everyone is sexually attracted to me). She told us that she left her daughter behind in Virgina, but we found out later that she had been taken away from her. She also has a pension for young men from the hood who may or may not be in person.

Gary Busey always seemed on the verge of ripping off her clothing in public areas and proclaiming that Jesus was inside of her, but this weekend was when she finally fell off her already weak and dilapidated rocker.

What triggered it?
She was convinced that someone stole her spoon and her figs.

On Saturday I had to talk her off of a ledge and give her aspirin so she could handle the “magnificent stress” of the situation involving her spoon and figs. On Sunday morning, I heard her screaming at the owner of the house demanding to know where her spoon and figs were. “Where are my figs, man?!” I heard her shout. Later that day I received three missed calls from Gary Busey. The third call I picked up.

Gary Busey: Hey there! I just want to let you know that I went to church and prayed and sang and now all the pain has gone away.

Me: Oh, wow, that’s great, Gary Busey. I’m glad you’re feeling better.

Gary Busey: I’m out walking in the neighborhood and feel at peace.

Me: Terrific.

Gary Busey: Wow, it’s so beautiful here…oh, look at that squirrel.

This is where it gets fun. Yesterday, Gary Busey stood over me and another roommate as we ate dinner. Not saying a word. Later that evening, after arriving home late from my second job, I caught a silhouette sitting in the dark of my kitchen. It was Gary Busey and she was waiting for me. In the dark. Next to the front door. I thought maybe she was doing her best impression of the Mad Men logo, but silly me, she wasn’t! I walked into the house and she just glared. “Looks like I have a fever!” she blurted out. I quasi-smiled and quickly walked up to my room. No more than five minutes later there was pounding on my door.

Gary Busey: I need to talk to you!

Me: Not now, Gary Busey! I’m sleeping!

She stammers and sighs and retreats back to her room.
Just as I was drifting to sleep, my door flew open! As I laid there half asleep, half naked in my bed, my bat shit scarfing roommate loomed over me ranting about how the world was against her and she wouldn’t stand for it any longer. I waited for the blow of her Bible against my head that never came, sighed, mumbled a few “fml‘s”s, then politely told her to leave my room.

With all that being said, it didn’t come as a surprise today when I was told that the police were at my house after she made allegations that her life was in jeopardy. I’m currently sitting in my room with the door locked as she packs up to leave. The police chief informed me that she had been hanging around the police station over the past week. He was getting frequent phone calls from her professing her love to him. I’m standing against the door listening to her her sigh her heavy sigh as the policeman tells her to hurry the fuck up.

The funny thing is, I wish I was exaggerating this entire story.
Or maybe it’s not that funny….where the hell is that can of pepper spray again?
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  • Reply Eric Shonkwiler October 14, 2009 at 5:53 am

    There needs to be a day for people like this. A holiday, set aside to appreciate the levity these folks bring to the world. Where would we be without their conspiracies, their phantom signals and government-sent, toilet-inhabiting turtles? The same place, probably. But a lot less entertained.

  • Reply erin October 14, 2009 at 1:51 pm

    My dad is a pharmacist and he has to deal with crazies all of the time. Some people think it's funny, but seeing it in real life is just downright frightening.

    I was followed home from the library by one of my dad's customers…he stood outside of my house for two hours. I called my dad and he came over to talk to the guy. He wouldn't leave so we had to call the police.

    I hope your roommate will be ok. Maybe she went off her meds or something. And I'm glad that she didn't hurt you!

  • Reply Hipstercrite October 14, 2009 at 2:42 pm

    Eric- Ha…yes, a day where the world finally wakes up and takes care of people like my ex-roommate.

    Erin- Wow, that is really scary! I'm glad you're ok. As I get older, I realize more and more that we have to be suspicious of everyone. Not to sound paranoid or anything… 😉

  • Reply unitqm October 14, 2009 at 4:48 pm

    I remember you telling me about Mr. Busey. Sounds like everything worked out for the best. I just can't figure out why you would steal a crazy person's fig. They don't grow on trees you know.

  • Reply Wez October 14, 2009 at 4:51 pm

    Oh my! I would have gone crazy! SO what's gon happen of her now? Did you find out?

  • Reply That Chelsea Girlâ„¢ October 14, 2009 at 5:25 pm

    Oh, my goodness! I am glad I have never had a bat shit crazy roomie. Glad you've survived.

  • Reply Hipstercrite October 14, 2009 at 6:36 pm

    hey unitqm-yeah, gary busey finally went off the deep end. i'm glad she's out sooner than later.

    wez- i'm not sure where she went. i hope she gets help and she takes care of herself. i also hope she doesn't pull this crap with someone else!

    chelsea- thanks, hon!

  • Reply nicopolitan October 14, 2009 at 7:10 pm

    I used to work in a bar close to an area with lots of people who had jumped off the deep end a long time ago — and with my experience, the best advice I can give you is to be polite but also to make your personal bubble very, very clear, and to be perfectly honest with being uncomfortable.

    And to keep the proverbial guano out of your room.

  • Reply Angie October 14, 2009 at 7:36 pm

    Good god, you must be relieved she's leaving.

  • Reply WILDasaMINK October 14, 2009 at 9:40 pm

    HILARIOUS! But I fear for your safety almost! Ok, this is my first time visiting your blog, and with this post I am officially HOOKED! I'm clicking "follow blog" as I finish this comment!
    This story is soooooo familiar–it reminds me of this halfway house my friend in college somehow managed to find himself living in (not because he was jsut getting out of prison, probably because it was right across from campus)and there was a totally crazy older woman just like Gary Busey living in that house. aaaah I can't stop laughing at this post of yours!

  • Reply Hipstercrite October 14, 2009 at 10:25 pm

    Nicopolitan- I agree with you, but when they live across the hall from you, it's hard for them not to invade your bubble, you know? like a normal person would not barge into someone's room while they're sleeping!

    Angie- you have no idea…

    WILDasaMINK- wow! thanks for the compliment! very exciting! glad you checked me out. i will check out you…right…now….

  • Reply Polly Syllabick October 15, 2009 at 5:42 am

    This by far trumps even the most evil of my ex-roomates, including the bitch who smashed-out in my bed after stealing her cancer-ridden father's credit card to buy a pair of pink courderoys at Bebe.

    BUT, it will make your memoir REALLY enjoyable.

    Will you visit her in prison?

  • Reply Tony Russo October 15, 2009 at 5:25 pm

    I'm not the type to throw accusations around, but his sounds suspiciously "Caine Mutiny" to me. The figs incident was the tipoff. Why would you drive that poor woman mad?

  • Reply Badass Geek October 15, 2009 at 5:29 pm


    And I thought my wife's best friend/our roommate for almost a year was bad.

  • Reply mysterg October 15, 2009 at 5:46 pm

    I love how Gary Busey is a term synonmous with bat-shit crazy!

    I would feel sorry for you both if I wasn't laughing so damn hard!

  • Reply Hipstercrite October 15, 2009 at 5:53 pm

    Polly- I don't know, that sounds pretty bat shit crazy to me!

    Tony- You know what, maybe I am the one that's crazy. Maybe I'm living in a parallel universe of sorts…

    Badass- Yeah, I've had crazy roommates before, but this one is actually nuts. I hope they took her for evaluation downtown.

    Mysterg- Yeah, just keep laughing when she comes back to the house with a chainsaw.

  • Reply Amanda October 16, 2009 at 11:04 pm

    Well done! You've reminded me just how lame and unremarkable even my craziest roommates have been.

    Best of luck with that one.

  • Reply robert byington October 19, 2009 at 2:20 am

    You are a good writer.

  • Reply Ian October 30, 2009 at 5:24 am

    Gary Busey is scary enough without also being a crazy woman in the same state as me. I felt safer when I knew he was just California surfing with Keanu Reeves

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