50 Times Visiting Someone's Home Turned Into An Absolute Nightmare

When I was dating my husband, he was 20 still at home with mom and new step dad. I took one foot in the door and almost ran away. Debated never talking to him again, seriously.

Piles of this and that, piles of smelling clothes, moldy dishes, couldn’t ever find a clean cup. 6 cats that peed on everything, 2 younger brothers.

I mean I can’t even explain it.

I told him my concerns and he said no one cares but him - I witnessed him weekly putting on gloves and a mask to clean the entire kitchen for the next day it to be immediately piled high again.

I’m glad I stuck it out with him and took a chance- turns out he’s even tidier than I am and it truly was just the environment his mom created.

I met this guy during my freshman year of high school. We sat next to each other in biology, bonded over hating group projects, and eventually became friends.

One weekend he invited me over to his house to work on a presentation.

Now, before I continue, I should mention that I had gotten a little high beforehand. Not completely gone, just enough that I was already questioning some of my life choices.

I showed up, rang the doorbell, and his dad answered. Completely naked. Not shocked naked. Not "I just got out of the shower" naked. Comfortably naked. Like this was a completely normal Tuesday afternoon.

My brain immediately assumed the grass was way stronger than I thought. I literally looked away, looked back, and thought, "Nope. Still naked."

His dad smiled and said, "You must be Jake's friend. Come on in." I stood there for a solid three seconds trying to decide whether I was hallucinating.

Then my friend appeared behind him and said: "Oh yeah, we're nudists. Forgot to mention that." FORGOT TO MENTION THAT. That's not something you forget. That's like forgetting to mention you own a giraffe.

At this point I was already there, so I awkwardly walked in. The thing is, nobody else seemed to think anything was weird.

His mom was making sandwiches. Naked. His older brother was watching TV. Naked.

The dog had a bow tie on. The dog was somehow the most formally dressed member of the household.

Meanwhile I was trying to figure out whether this was real life or if I'd somehow wandered into the strangest dream of all time.

At one point I actually texted my friend from the bathroom: "Is everyone naked?"

He replied: "Yeah." That was the entire response. No explanation. No warning. Just "yeah."

The funniest part was that they were incredibly nice. Nobody made a big deal about it. Nobody acted strange. The only person malfunctioning was me.

Then lunch happened. His dad stood up and said, "Can somebody pass the mustard?" And for some reason that completely broke me. I had to stare at the wall because I was trying so hard not to laugh.

When I finally got home, my mom asked how it went. I said: "Honestly, I don't know." She asked: "What do you mean?" I just replied: "I need about 24 hours to process what happened."

I never went back. Nice family, though.

Was at my friends house and we got some cereal.

I finish it and go to drink the milk from the bowl and I’m told I’m not allowed to do that.

Some time later me, my friend and both our moms went to McDonald’s and the whole time she told him when and what to eat.

“Okay, now take a bit of your fries, now drink your soda, more soda, okay now you can bite your burger”

Me and my mom were just like… yeah these people are weirdos, and stopped interacting with them as much.

Her children. They know absolutely no discipline or boundaries. They jumped on me and slapped at me and pulled my hair and tried to go through my purse the entire time I was there and my friend did nothing about it and even gave me a weird look when I told the youngest that it's not okay to hit. I haven't gone back to her house since.

I was in middle school, my mom was going out of town for a few days so it was arranged for me to spend a few nights at a friend's house down the street. The friend had a younger brother who was an absolute spoiled little brat. Tantrums any time he didn't get his way, rude to his family members, etc.

Day two staying there I had already seen him cuss out his mom, throw a fit about my friend and I playing our own games, and have a public meltdown about not getting to ride in the front seat. That evening while my friend and I were hanging out minding our own business he started messing with me specifically, he wanted to play my gameboy which I was actively using. After I politely told him no he snatched it out of my hands and ran off. I yelled at him to stop and give it back, when his mom came over. Instead of discipling her little jerk she had the audacity to tell me it was my fault for not giving it to him and that "in this house we treat each other with respect".

I packed up my stuff and walked home. When my mom called because she got a call from their family about me being missing I told her what happened. I was allowed to just stay home alone for the next two days after that.

No way am I going to sit through your brat being a little jerk for days only to have you be a god darn hypocrite to my face.

His horrible step dad wasn’t able to keep it in check when I was over. Yelled at me and hit him a bunch. Told mom and we had my friend over as much as possible. I assume my parents and the school got CPS involved because we didn’t see his dad pick him up from school anymore.

His parents were Portuguese immigrants. His mother was **extremely** house proud. There were a lot of controlling rules like us kids were not allowed to stay on the 1st or 2nd floor. Basement rec room only. Even if it was snowing or raining, we had to take our foot wear off while on the porch and so on.

The main reason though was getting yelled at in Portuguese by her and then her chewing out her son for a long time because I ate a grape.

The father was growing grapes in the backyard to make wine. My friend told me he had to buy most of his grapes because an inner city back yard just couldn't produce enough. But I was never ever to bring that up or question the father. Father was extremely proud of his grapes and the wine he produced from them.

In season, one of the parents would pick the most perfect looking bunch of grapes from the vine and put it on display in a bowl on the kitchen table. Apparently this display purposes only bunch was darn near sacred to them. And by grabbing one I had broken a rule that you were to never help yourself to a snack. You stood politely in the kitchen doorway and asked.

So, one grape, two "sins". When my friend was able to come back outside later he told me I was now banned from their house forever.

When I was around 11 years old I was staying with one of my “rich” friends. Huge house, stay at home mom who drove a Mercedes station wagon, etc. Her parents get into a fight and the dad starts beating the mom. I never wanted to go back there again.

When I was like 11 I had been at a friend's who I spent most days with. The next time I went round I got told off by his Mum and told that I'd broken one of the wooden posts in the stair banisters. I 100% hadn't and I'm pretty sure it was his younger sister, but everyone in the house including my friend blamed me for it.

Hygiene.

It was so disgusting that i just couldnt bring myself to ever go over there again.

And it was a gradual thing. They were 4 dudes renting a two story house with a Jacuzzi.

So it was basically an awesome party pad.

We had some really awesome parties there but as time went on they started cleaning less and less until it started looking like a hoarder home.

The last time we were there we decided to have some hangover pizza but there was no clean cutlery to be found and the sink was full with dishes, sure it's ok with dishes, but these had been there so long mold had formed.

And the carpet was so dirty you had to watch your step. And i didn't notice all this because we arrived late in the evening and spent most time outside in the garden drinking and smoking.

But yeah, no.

Years ago after getting divorced, a friend offered his spare bedroom to me. I went over to check his place out. The room he was offering me was littered with dog poo. He just casually said he would clean that up before I moved in.

Unsurprisingly, I did not move in.

It wasn't exactly a friend, but an acquaintance that we knew well, and got along with.

There was some community project that my mother, a couple of her friends and this lady were working on. I was about 10, and my mother brought me along, to this ladies house when it was her turn to host, because she couldn't leave me home alone.

This lady had come to our house a few times, and she always smelled stale, not BO, but a smell that I associated with not bathing.

Now it was time for the group to meet at her house and work there.

We went in and a couple of the group were sitting at the table, talking. The hostess asked if they wanted coffee, and they said yes.

She went to the sink, which was stacked high with dirty dishes, and rummaged around for 4 coffee cups and glass for me.

She rinsed the dirty cups under the running tap, using her fingers, and a dirty cloth to get the old coffee off. She didn't use dish soap.

She then filled them and put them on the table, and went to the fridge, to get some milk , for the coffee and me.

She started to pour milk in my glass, and it was lumpy, and she said I guess you will have to have water.

She rinsed out the glass, filled it with water, and sent me in to watch TV, so they could work.

I used my water, to water her split leaf philodendron. I could still see stains on the glass.

When we left, my mother hadn't touched her coffee. My mother told me that we were never going back, and when we got home, she phoned her friends, and rearranged the schedule, so that no more meetings were at this ladies house.

30 years later, reading her obituary, I learned that she suffered with depression, off and on, her whole life.

Her dad poured a hot pot of coffee on her mom in front of me. I told my mom about it and I never went back.

It was a hoard. A clean hoard, but a hoard. She has or had a habit of taking anything that’s free, whether it’s operational or needed or has space. “I’m going to restore that!” That habit had escalated in between my second to last visit there and my last visit. I was staying in the guest room, which had a sliding glass door. In the past I’d been able to walk right out onto the patio. Now, she’d piled so much trash in front of it that if I wanted to go out to the now- hoarded patio, I would have had to somehow launch myself sideways over the pile, assuming I could get the door open. I’d taken the train down to visit, so I didn’t have vehicle access or I would have looked for a hotel. The whole train ride home, I was contemplating calling Adult Protective Services, but didn’t see what good it would do.

I was scared for her. She’d installed a lock on her front door so that you needed a key to get out. She left the key in the lock all the time, so I’m not sure what the point was. I was just imagining trying to get out in a fire. You’d have to be familiar with the location of the access trails. And hope the front door key hadn’t fallen out.

The bathroom was clean and scrubbed. Kitchen was clean but cluttered. But god darn, the piles of stuff everywhere.

When I walked in, you could hear a “crunch” with every step because of roaches. She kept her dishes in a large storage container to keep the bugs off of them and there were bugs all over the stove, in the burners. To top it off, just before I raced out of there I attempted to use the restroom. I should have known better… there was a 2 foot high pile of used pads and tampons carelessly thrown beside the toilet and tub.

I felt so bad for her. She lived with her mother and sister and you could tell she was embarrassed, which is why I didn’t immediately turn around and leave at the first “crunch” of my foot.

None of the bathrooms ever had toilet paper. The roll was alway empty next to the toilet AND they never had extras under the sink…like, what?!

I had a work friend, Nancy. She was upbeat and caring. I was just 21 when I started working at the company while pursuing my graduate studies. Nancy was in her early thirties and married to a man close to forty.

At that time, my parents lived several states away and none of my other friends were married yet. So when Nancy invited me over for dinner with her husband, I was very grateful and looking forward to a family dinner.

When I arrived, Nancy greeted me warmly and I helped her finish up dinner before her husband Brian was due home. As his truck rumbled into the driveway, Nancy said, “He can be a little intimidating and off around new people , but he’s a sweet guy.”

I work in human services and I’m an extrovert, so I was confident I could do a lot to smooth our first meeting.

I was wrong.

Brian angrily opened the door and shouted, “Whose car is parked out front?”. Nancy reminded him I was visiting for dinner. He looked at me and walked upstairs. Nancy said, “He’s tired and hot from working all day doing construction and installation of HVAC systems.

Nancy and I sat on the porch and chatted as Brian cleaned up. She made a gorgeous roasted chicken with potatoes, vegetables and gravy with a decadent chocolate cake for dessert.

An hour later Brian comes down stairs scowling. He looks at me and says, “I thought you would’ve left by now., Darlene (not my name, but I didn’t correct him)” I tried to excuse myself, but Nancy insisted I stay. Dinner was now almost two hours after when it was scheduled.

We sat down at the table and Nancy served Brian. He didn’t say thank you - complained how hungry he was. We then served ourselves quickly. He took one bite of the chicken and spat it out. He got up and screamed, “This is f-ing cold.”, then threw his full plate on the floor.

I was stunned. He then got up and throw the remainder of the meal on the floor. He grabbed our dishes and tossed them against the sliding door leaving broken plates and smeared food.

Then he simply got up and went into the den and turned on the TV. I was petrified, but Nancy laughed it off, but there were tears in her eyes.

Before we could attend to the mess or figure out how I was going to get out of there safely. Brian screams for Nancy to bring him one of those chocolates that look like a orange. She playfully tossed it to him and he caught it. Once she turned around, he chucked it at her head. Then asked me if I wanted to see him target shoot in his back yard.

Nancy suggested I leave quietly out the back. I called the police and the next day at work Nancy told me she sent them away saying her husband was just joking around.

I tried to find resources to help her leave, but she wouldn’t and our friendship only remained at work. I left the job when I received a teaching assistantship the next semester.

This was before cellphones and email. We lost touch. I hope she’s safe. It’s been 24 years. I still wish I could have done more.

When I was about 13 my childhood best friend and I ended up at different schools in different counties. There was some natural drifting but one weekend I was staying at her house and I mentioned a some friends at school and called one girl my best friend. That evening her mom pulls me aside and lectures me that I can only have one best friend and it should be her daughter. Really weird family anyway, never went back.

Friend with unmedicated OCD. I had to wash my hands multiple times under her supervision until she deemed my hands clean, sit on a specific spot on her couch on top of a garbage bag, and could only walk a certain path through her apartment that she determined (it was never a straight line). I'm a clean/hygienic person, but she said I was mentally dirty.

My friend of 30 years asked me to stay with her daughter when she went out of town. I had not visited her in her home since she divorced.

I was to stay in her daughter’s room and her daughter stayed in the mother’s room.

When I got to the house I was dismayed to find that it smelled like a barn. They had a dog, several kittens, a rabbit, birds, and who knows what else. The stench was so bad that my eyes watered.

Fortunately it was cool enough outside that I could crack the window in the bedroom where I was staying. The girl complained that we ate out every day, but I could not eat there.

I never went back to visit her house. She did not live that way when she was married.