Hamtitlement at Christmastime

Hello my lovelies, it has been a long while since I’ve posted, due to not really having any stories to tell. However, with my current living situation, I do now, and might end up having more. Throwaway account as my housemates know my real account, and all names changed to be nothing like the real ones. I apologize in advance if this isn’t completely coherent, I’m hopped up on painkillers and being subjected to the housemate featured in this story throwing yet another tantrum. Said tantrum brought back the memories from the month of December, so I figure why not share them here.

About 6 months ago, I moved into the house I currently live in. I have four other housemates, three of which are awesome people. Unfortunately, we also have Amy, who has the impulse control and emotional rationality of a toddler. Now, Amy is the type of person that takes very good care of her skin, hair, and hygiene, her clothes fit her properly and thus she isn’t spilling out of them, her room is clean and mostly organized, and she makes sure her cats are up on their flea meds and their litterboxes are cleaned regularly. However, Amy is also one of those people who was never told no by her parents or other relatives, and as such, now expects everyone around her to cater to her every whim. She doesn’t have a job, her father is paying her rent for her, and if anyone tells her no on anything, cue the instant toddler-mode tantrum. We’re talking screaming, feet stomping, wall punching, name calling, cursing, etc. The biggest issues are where she expects everyone to just hand over their food if she asks for it, and where she expects to be driven around places to her heart’s desire as she doesn’t have her license and apparently can’t stand the thought of taking public transit. She is constantly complaining about how she “just can’t lose weight,” even though she “hardly eats.” No one in this house is particularly thin or in shape, due to chronic pain issues and limited mobility issues, but the other four of us make up for it by adjusting our diets to accommodate a more sedentary lifestyle, and as such, we are each maintaining healthy weights. Amy, on the other hand, gained at least 20 lbs since I moved in, putting her now at about 250, and she isn’t showing any signs of stopping. She rarely ever leaves the house, except where food is involved, and spends most of the day either in her room or on the couch with a plate of food in her lap.

Over the course of my time living here, food items large and small have started going missing. The other housemates and I realized early on that it had to have been Amy, as she seemed to always have food but never goes to the store with any of us when we do our grocery shopping, but we didn’t actually have proof. It hasn’t been a terribly huge issue, as none of us have a whole lot of money, and mostly buy fresh fruits and vegetables, and any meat that isn’t going to be used immediately goes into the freezer. We mostly have a good amount of sauces, and a fully-stocked spice rack, which makes cooking a lot better. Things such as containers of leftovers, cheese, lunch meat, and the occasional treat however have been going missing faster and faster lately though, which has only been incentive to stop spending money on those items.

Things got far, far worse over the course of the holiday season, when there were a good amount of seasonal dishes and pastries around the house around time for Christmas. These things were brought over by friends and relatives, given to us as gifts, as the other four of us in the house are all working class people living in a non-rent controlled area in the South Bay Area. Basically, we make enough money to get by, but there isn’t a whole lot left over once rent and bills are paid. So, food is greatly appreciated when people bring it over for us. Of course, this also means that Amy is hovering all up in the kitchen and dining room, trying to get in on the food as well. The four of us mainly survived the holiday season off the food that was given to us as gifts. Being in good holiday spirits, we would occasionally also hand Amy a plate of food which we portioned out for her, because we have seen how she eats and don’t want all our food gone in one sitting. Of course, this was never good enough for her, and she would start wailing about how we were being completely unfair and trying to starve her, and ran off to her room to beat the wall and cry some more, of course taking the plate of food with her nonetheless. We would just shrug it off, and went back to enjoying our dinner.

Christmas day, the other three housemates and I go to pull out the most recent trays of food that had been delivered by friends and relatives, and start warming it up. We only find one dish, a huge platter of chopped fresh vegetables for roasting. Amy wanders out as we’re talking amongst each other about the missing food, and asks us when dinner is going to be ready. We ask her about all our missing food, and why there’s only a tray of vegetables left. She starts whining about it wasn’t fair that we weren’t sharing our food with her, and that we were starving her and should have been more accommodating to her “lifestyle.” Yes, she used that word. We told her that we aren’t spoiled little assholes, and actually have to work for a living, and money is tight and we were saving a good amount of the food for Christmas dinner for the house. She then went into a total bitchfest about she shouldn’t have to eat “leftovers” on Christmas, and how we were lazy, cheap assholes for not cooking fresh food, and how she would rather starve. We all just rolled our eyes and ignored her, because of course that wasn’t true, and we knew it. We went to pull a couple of packages of meat out of the freezer and began thawing them. Over the course of getting things ready, we realized at some point that we also couldn’t find a large majority of the desserts, all of which were cookies, shortbread, and truffles. One of the housemates, Brian, wandered back toward Amy’s room, stood in the doorway for a moment after the door was open, then called us back there.

Amy had taken one of the empty serving trays, piled it high with the sugar-laden treats, and was sulking on her bed while stuffing piece after piece into her face hole. At this point, we are all too disgusted to say anything, so we just kind of stare. When she noticed us, she started in with some sob story about being hungry and how she shouldn’t be blamed for taking the food because it’s “communal” and we’re being selfish on a day of giving and blah blah blah. She ended up making herself sick from all the sugar, and as a result spent most of Christmas night puking her brains out, while the rest of us made due with what we managed to pull together and have a nice dinner, and mostly, a nice night.