My Roommate’s Boyfriend Devoured My Food, Then Took Things to a Whole New Level

My Roommate’s Boyfriend Consumed My Groceries Every Single Day, But What He Did After That Was Even Crazier

Our shared flat was a calm haven from the busy lives of a junior doctor and marketing professional before Ryan moved in. But when Jenna’s boyfriend began breaking into our fridge on a daily basis, our once peaceful home became a war zone where goods and decency were lost.

Call myself Emma, and I work as a junior physician. My days are spent working long hours at the hospital. It seems like a marathon every day. I hope to get some sleep when I arrive home late, but my shared flat is hardly a peaceful place to be.

We had a fairly peaceful life with Jenna before Ryan entered it. Despite our hectic schedules, we were able to create a tranquil refuge in our flat.

As a junior physician, I had to manage lengthy shifts at the hospital. Due to her job in marketing, Jenna experienced her fair share of late nights and pressing deadlines.

For us, weekends were an uncommon luxury. We used to spend our leisurely Saturday mornings drinking coffee and catching up on each other’s life during the few weekends when I wasn’t on call.

Although it wasn’t ideal, it served our needs. Things went well because of an unwritten agreement and respect for one another.

In the middle of the turmoil of our professional life, this harmony made our apartment feel like a haven. Everything changed when Ryan came into the picture. He comes over here nearly every day now, and he treats my groceries as his own. When I go home, the fridge is always empty, regardless of how much I stock up. Milk? It’s gone. Eggs? Consumed. Fresh vegetables? Gone. It enrages me.

“Jenna, Ryan ate all my groceries again,” I complained one evening.

“He’s just hungry, Emma,” she shrugged. Does he not Venmo you the money?

“That’s not the point,” I answered back. “I’m so tired when I go home and look forward to eating, but there’s nothing left for me. Shopping is not something I can do every day.”

With a sigh, Jenna said, “You’re being mean. It is only food.

Still, it was more than nourishment for me. After a difficult day, that was the last straw. And it was like adding salt to the wound when Ryan casually said, “I’ll Venmo you,” each time he tidied up the fridge. I felt like I was his personal grocery delivery man.

I went right up to Ryan one night. As usual, he was in the kitchen, going through the refrigerator.

I tried to keep my voice steady as I added, “Ryan, you can’t keep eating my groceries.”

“Hello, Emma,” he grinned as he looked up. I will Venmo you, so don’t worry.”

“That’s not the problem,” I replied, my fury rising. “I must buy the food I do. I’m too busy to constantly replenishing.”

“You’re serious?,” he laughed. Food is all that. Unwind.”

“Just food?” I repeated. It’s my meal. I’m sick of finding an empty fridge when I get home.”

Ryan shrugged, obviously not understanding. “All right, I’ll give up. But I fail to see the significance.”

However, he persisted. Days passed with no changes. I returned home to an empty fridge every night. My level of frustration increased until it became intolerable.

I had a different strategy in mind when I went grocery shopping the following day. I made sure to buy my regular groceries—fresh vegetables, milk, eggs, and a few extras—while I was out shopping. I carefully tagged everything with ridiculously high pricing as soon as I came home. $50 for an apple, $20 for broccoli, and $50 for milk. Though it appeared absurd, I was in a dire need of proving something.

Ryan came over as usual that evening. Pretending to read a magazine while seated at the kitchen table, my true intention was to gauge his response. His mouth dropped when he opened the refrigerator and looked at the price tags.

“What is this?” he inquired, presenting a $50 milk carton.

“Those are the new prices,” I stated composedly. “Since you treat my fridge like a mini-bar, I thought it was only fair.”

He thought I was kidding when he laughed. But his smile vanished when I didn’t smile back. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” was my response. “Pay up or stop eating my food.”

With a groan, Ryan miraculously took out his phone. He grumbled, “Fine, whatever,” and Venmoed me the exaggerated sums. I kept a slight smile on my lips as I observed him. It was functioning. In reality, he was making the payment.

I went and got a tiny fridge with the money Ryan sent me. It was the ideal size, fitting neatly into my room while still holding all of my necessities. The finest aspect? It was secured with a lock. I arranged it in my room, filled it with groceries, and secured it firmly. My food was safe at last.

I felt so good on my first night with my new mini fridge. Upon returning home, I opened my tiny fridge to find my groceries there, undamaged and precisely where I had left them. I cooked a modest supper for myself and relished the fact that Ryan was unable to touch it.

Weeks passed into days, and my life drastically changed. Get rid of the empty fridge when you return home. No more accumulating annoyance. For the first time in months, I felt in control. I became less stressed and was able to unwind when I got home.

Jenna also observed the shift. “You seem happier lately,” she remarked one night.

“I am,” I smiled in response. “Taking control of the fridge situation made a huge difference.”

But Ryan was not so happy about it. “One day, you didn’t have to go that far,” he complained. “It was just food.”

“To me, it was more than just food,” I asserted. “It was about respect and boundaries.”

As I gave it some thought, I saw how much this entire experience had taught me. Establishing limits is essential, and sometimes enforcing them requires ingenuity. Ryan didn’t respect my cuisine, but I taught him the importance of respect by standing up for what I believed in.

I got a little rush of satisfaction each time I locked my little refrigerator. It was terrific to outwit the indolent freeloader. It was about advocating for myself and ensuring sure my needs were satisfied, not just about the food.

I would advise anyone in a similar circumstance to take charge. Refrain from allowing others to profit from your generosity. Establish limits and don’t hesitate to uphold them. It’s about respecting your space and yourself, not about being petty.

Ultimately, I discovered that sometimes even the most difficult issues can be resolved with a little cunning and perseverance. And knowing I had prevailed, I grinned each time I shut my little refrigerator.