Youngest Roommate (yesterday): You know how you said I could use your van to move stuff if I needed it?

Er... No, I said no such thing. I said I could do one load for you on moving day, which you declined. And YOU don't get to use my van: I use my van to help you.

Me: For a limited time, cause I'm taking the insurance off.

Roommate: I got to pick up stuff from the university tomorrow. Between 9 am and 4 pm.

Me: That totally doesn't work for me, but I suppose I'll just have to get up.

(Follows a series of garbled and contradictory instructions from him.)

This morning. I return from work.

Roommate: What time do you get home from work?

Me: When I get around to it.

Roommate: (lengthy complaint about Eldest Roommate)

Me: Right. Well, I'm going to bed. I'll think about it later.

Afternoon. I get up to go move his stuff.

Me (texting as I leave the house): I'm leaving the house now.

Roommate (texting me while I'm driving, which obviously I didn't check): I'll meet you at the stadium.

Me (texting after arriving at the previously agreed rendez-vous): I'm at the previously agreed rendez-vous.

Roommate: I'm at the stadium.

Me (apart): Fucksakes...

Driving to the stadium, I spot the roommate standing on the side of a busy road which is a bus route and has a "no stopping" sign on every single light post. I drive past as he waves at me.

Roommate (texting): You just drove right past me.

I turn around where it is safe and go park in the stadium parking lot across from where he is.

Roommate (arriving at the car): I was on the other side, you drove right past me.

Me: You were standing right under a "no stopping" sign.

Roommate (not interested): Really? (As we drive past where he had been standing:) See, I was standing right there.

Me: Yeah. There is a "no stopping" sign on every single light post.

Roommate (not interested): I didn't notice.

Douchebag... So we go pick up his stuff which was a heavy(ish) old desk and some miscellaneous stuff. He goes inside and comes back shortly.

Roommate: Can you come with me? There's no one to help me.

Sigh... Fine. I go, load his desk on a cart, let him pull it to the car, load the car, wait for him to return the cart and load other stuff, blah blah etc whatever, then we head back home.

Roommate: Moving is so much work. And nobody helps you here. In my country everyone helps.

Dafuq??? First of all if you don't like it here feel free to go back where you came from. Second, you had two suitcases and a box and two people helped you. Third, you shouldn't complain, of all people, to the person who got up after five hours of sleep and is using her gas money to help you. Douchebag. And fourth you shouldn't complain to ME anyway because I've just moved 650 kg of stuff three times in six months, and my furniture twice, and you don't hear me making so much drama.

We arrive back at the house. I get my handtruck and unload the desk, which then will not fit through the back gate. With a real guy I could have lifted it over the gate, or I could have spent time and effort lying it down and working it in at an angle, blah blah, but no.

Me: Here. You'll just have to walk it around to the front.

Roommate (looking at me and not moving): Ok.

Me: Ok, so take the handle, and walk around to the front.

Roommate: Oh, like I have to walk around?

Me: Yeah. Here you go.

I hand him the handtruck and he promptly almost dumps the desk.

Me: You have to tilt it toward you.

I go into the house and take my dog for a walk. When I return, the roommate is sitting down.

Roommate: Do you know any home remedies -

Me: No I don't.

Roommate: - for heatstroke?

Me: Heatstroke is a life-threatening condition, the first aid for it is to move the victim to a cool place and provide rest, water, and ice packs to cool them down.

Roommate: Water?

Me: And cold packs.

Roommate: I had a shower.

Me: You don't have heatstroke.

Roommate: But I feel so exhausted!

Me: Then rest.

Roommate: Oh, I'll do that. (Goes to his room which is the hottest place in the house. Hmmm... I don't think we're getting through here.)

I'm sorely tempted to buy a bunch of Disney princess decals to decorate the place, as a sort of subliminal message.