I rent a room in a house with a few other women. It’s a typical setup — a communal area and a small bedroom each. I don’t spend a lot of time in the communal area, but even less when [Roommate]’s boyfriend is there.
We shouldn’t even have visitors, but everyone looks the other way, especially if it is only for a night. But [Roommate] has him around for almost a week at a time. He’s creepy and obnoxious and I’m sure he steals food from the fridge. I only have one more year left at uni and then I will move, so I kind of switch off and just keep a distance.
I grab myself something to eat and cannot find my spatula anywhere. It’s a big, pink, silicone one, so it’s hard to miss. I make do without, but I’m keen to know where it is or if I need to replace it. I’ve asked everyone, aside from [Roommate], so I ask her when I see her next.
Me: “Hey, you don’t know where my spatula is, do you?”
Roommate: “Oh, we used it, sorry. I’ll wash it up.”
Me: “No worries. I just couldn’t find it in the kitchen anywhere. I don’t mind washing it. Where did you put it?”
Roommate: “Oh, yeah. It’s in my room.”
Me: *Oblivious* “Why would it be in your room?! You can’t cook in there with the smoke alarm.”
Roommate: “Well, sometimes we borrow it. Well, not all the time, but when he’s over, we—”
Me: “Oh, God, I cook with that!”
Roommate: “I’ll wash it!”
Me: “You will buy me a new one and never borrow anything from me again!”
Disgusted, I stopped talking to [Roommate]. A couple of weeks went by and she still hadn’t replaced the spatula. I reminded her and reminded her. She eventually refused, as the one I bought was “too expensive” and “no one needs a spatula as expensive as that.”
I was going to leave it there, but she lied to the rest of the house and made me look like the bad guy. I told them what actually happened and they “banned” her from having guests around.
