Oh Drama. Don't we all just hate to love it?
I know that my posting has lacked a little something lately. Mainly it has lacked....well...posting.
Let me catch you up a bit. My boyfriend got a new roommate towards the beginning of the fall semester. Let's just call him Shmel.
Shmel was not my favorite person in the world. My best guess was that he is in his fifties, even though he looks closer to his eighties. Shmel has also done a lot of drugs in his life. Way too many drugs. Shmel was a little creepy. He was upwards of 300 pounds and had bad teeth and a wheezing laugh that inserted itself into my life at awkward unexplainable times.
Also, Shmel liked to dumpster dive. If you don't know what dumpster diving is, it is where mentally insane people and/or hoarders peek their heads into dumpsters hoping to find that one item that will change their lives forever. One man's trash is another man's treasure, right? With the exception of a few novel trinkets, what they mainly end up with is a bunch of useless shit that should end up in the dumpster.
One day Shmel came home from work. He was carrying a blue box that I didn't really give a shit about. Unfortunately he told me all about it anyway. This box had been in the dumpster behind their apartment complex. And what wonderful marvels did it reveal upon opening? I know because Shmel also told me this. He liked to talk, that Shmel. It contained a computer monitor, a laptop, a journal, a music pedal, cassette tapes, some receipts, and shoes. I didn't pay much attention to him, mainly because I was ignoring him, until the name that was on the stuff was said aloud. I went to take a closer look, and sure enough it belonged to a friend from high school.
I told Shmel that I would like to get a hold of this guy on facebook, and helped him put the items back in the box. I still wasn't listening to him that closely because I don't enjoy listening to people I hold a large amount of disdain for, but he gave at least three sentences that included the phrase, "Well, finders keepers in my mind."
Mainly he was complying for the moment because he either didn't want to stand up to me, or he didn't think I would actually do anything about it.
I got a hold of my friend and discovered that it was some stuff that he found in his parents' house that he was trying to get rid of. He gave me his number and asked me to retrieve the box so that he could dispose of it properly. The next day, I went over to my boyfriend's apartment and picked up the box so that I could give it back to my friend. When he came and picked it up I asked for the computer moniter as a consolation prize, since that is what Shmel had verbally expressed the most interest in. I also asked about the laptop but was informed that it was royally fucked and there was no point.
The next day my boyfriend joined me at the bar for a shot because of his terrible day. He told me that on top of other things going on, Shmel had yelled at him when he was told that I had taken the box. I later found out that he had yelled at him in the middle of the open kitchen of the restaurant they both work in, and had chosen to scream like a five year old without any consolation from the truth that the laptop did not work. He refused to speak to my boyfriend after that, either at work or at home.
About a week and a half ago I got a phone call at work. It was from my boyfriend. "You know how I told you I had a funny feeling about Shmel lately?" he said. "Well, I came home and all of his stuff is gone."
Yes, Shmel upped his piece-of-shit-ness by just moving all of his stuff out of the apartment without any warning other that being a shady bastard. He then had the balls to tell my boyfriend at work that he had left some things of his at the apartment and would like them back. The response? "The apartment is now considered abandoned by you. Legally that shit is mine."
You may think you won, Shmel. But I won, you piece of shit. I won.
