This happened quite a while ago, but it recently came up in conversation, and someone suggested I share it here. So, here goes.
Let’s start with a brief background on a friend named Pat. They’d been buddies during middle and high school, and initially, Pat seemed pretty cool. However, college brought out a different side of him. What started as a minor disagreement about the boyfriend I had at the time—one he was definitely right about—quickly escalated into something far more controlling. He started dictating aspects of my life: who I should date, what hobbies I should pursue, and even what degree I should stick with. It became clear that he wanted to run my life, and I wasn’t having it.
The real tension began when I decided to move off campus. Living in the dorms was cramped, and I needed my own space. I tried explaining this to Pat, but he had his own opinions about it. I ignored him and eventually moved in with two great friends. That arrangement worked well for about a year, until one friend dropped out of school and the other relocated for work. Suddenly, I found myself in a bit of a bind.
My house was far from campus, making it challenging to maintain the lease without finding new roommates. So I took to asking around, hoping to find a group of people looking for an extra housemate. I chatted with various groups of girls, and things seemed promising. We even arranged to meet up to discuss the potential living situation. But when it came time to finalize everything, I was ghosted. No one would respond. I didn’t think I had made any enemies, but the situation had me scratching my head.
Fortunately, I eventually connected with a roommate, Desiree, who also wanted to move off campus. We found a charming two-bedroom house and signed the lease. With about a month left until classes started, we were excitedly planning our move. That’s when Desiree mentioned a warning Pat had given her about being my roommate. Turns out, Pat had been sabotaging my efforts by spreading rumors that I was a high-drama, filthy mess unfit for cohabitation.
I was furious. Pat, who was set to be a Resident Assistant (RA) for the upcoming year, had crossed a serious line. I wasn’t going to let him get away with trying to ruin my housing situation. So, I hatched a plan. Pat had a public LiveJournal account, where he detailed his intentions of selling alcohol and drugs to students he was supposed to supervise. I knew I could leverage this against him.
I reached out to the head of Residential Life and shared the link to Pat’s LiveJournal. By doing so, I hoped to expose his plans and jeopardize his RA position. Shortly thereafter, news broke that Pat was no longer an RA. He lost the position—along with his coveted single room—just a month before school started. While he could still remain in the dorms, he was barred from any authority role. It was a small, sweet victory for me.
Pat suspected I was behind it, but he could never prove it. I had created a separate email specifically for this purpose, and he had made it easy for me by keeping his LiveJournal public. Plus, he had already ruffled more than a few feathers on campus, having been a jerk to more than just me. When he confronted me about it later, I simply stated that I was willing to treat others how they treated me. When he asked if he had done something to deserve this treatment, I reminded him of his behavior. He dropped the subject, either because he realized I knew what he was up to or maybe he didn’t want to admit it outright.
In the end, the whole situation felt like poetic justice. Pat’s attempts to sabotage my living arrangements had backfired spectacularly, leaving him to scramble for housing just as classes were about to begin.
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