I’ve been living with Tim for almost a year now. I work with him. He’s a really nice guy and will bend over backwards for anyone in our office. Always a smile on his face- a bit of a sloppy dresser (wrinkled shirts, torn cuffs on his pants). I never heard him say a bad word about anyone, so that’s why after he got divorced and his ex got the house I told him he could take the spare bedroom in my house. Everything started out fine for about the first couple months but now he is driving me bonkers.
We both have very stressful jobs at our office and often find ourselves trying to do three, four tasks at once. I tend to keep to myself, get my jobs done and not complain because we are well paid. But, like I said, Tim will bend over backwards for anyone and because of that often bites off way more than he can chew, but always with a smile on his face. But after that first couple months with him in my house I found out how he does it. By releasing all that stress and tension when he gets home, and not in healthy ways or very friendly ways.
First, all the fine people he helps and is super-nice to? The second he stepped in the door after work they are suddenly all useless, incompetent idiots who had no business even being employed. Our mutual boss (a very nice lady who I find very competent) has no business raising children, much less heading a large department in a busy office. These rants didn’t go on all the time at first, but they got more and more frequent. Now they are daily.
I soon noticed that his being super-nice and helpful at the office was just a guise because at home it was on a whole different level. It started one night after he moved in and I was in the kitchen fixing dinner. He wanders in and immediately starts critiquing every move I made. I wasn’t stirring the pasta enough, I wasn’t cutting the onions the right way, I put the garlic bread in the oven way too soon then he just shoved me out of the way with an angry “Let me do it” and took over. This happened every time I tried to cook anything- even if it was just for me. I was doing it all wrong and he would shove me out and take over. He’s a total control freak.
It went from in the kitchen to all around the house. I vacuumed wrong. I folded the laundry wrong. I cleaned the bathroom wrong. I couldn’t do anything right, other than mow the lawn- and the only reason I did that right is because he had absolutely no idea how to start and use the lawn mover. I resigned myself to just letting him do everything and sit back, relax and watch TV. And guess what, now I am suddenly a lazy bastard because he does everything and all I do is sit on my ass- but he doesn’t stop doing everything and continues to piss and moan every time I try help.
Tim and I both smoke. Bad habit, I know. I smoke probably less than a half pack a day. Tim, on the other hand, starts smoking incessantly the second we get home. He even wakes up during the night to smoke. The second we walk in the door he pours himself a glass of wine and that glass remains full until he goes to bed- when he doesn’t pass out and fall asleep on the couch. He buys those three liter cheap box wines. He goes through two, three a week. One night I saw him drain a whole box.
A couple months ago I found something else out. We usually drive separate cars to the office because he likes to go in before I do and get home earlier. That week his car was in the shop so he rode with me. On the way home I stopped at the local liquor store to buy cigarettes. He asked me to get him a pack and he hands me a ten dollar bill. I walk in, buy a pack of my brand, tell the guy behind the counter that Tim needs a pack too and point out the window, where Tim is standing having a cigarette. I hand the clerk the ten and he hands me the cigarettes AND a half pint of cheap whisky and change. I asked what that was for and he says “Your buddy always gets a half pint with his cigarettes.” I come out, hand the cigarettes and the booze to Tim and he says “What’s that for?” so I tell him “The clerk says that you always get a bottle with your smokes.” Tim stomped out his cigarette, ran into the store and absolutely went ballistic with the clerk- to the point where he is told he is not allowed in the store anymore. I did a little digging when we got home. Trash day was the next day. I dug a little under the trash and what did I find? About a dozen of empty half pints of cheap whisky. Tim must be drinking them on his way to work and on his way home, because I never see him drinking them at home. I never have seen him drink whisky period- just wine.
I am almost at my breaking point and am considering confronting Tim about this soon… Super nice at the office, out-right SHIT the second he steps out the door…