An Open Letter to the Guy Who Won't Move Out of his Parents' House

The time has arrived, the time it is now. I don't care where, I don't care how.

Michael J. Rotondo, will you please go now?

Seriously, Michael? This is a first. You sound like a bum, you sound like the worst.

You're 30 years old, the papers report. You were told to move out by a judge and the court.

You've mooched off your parents, eight years rent-free. They just want you out, they want you to leave, so they filed a suit and entered a plea.

But you argued your case in front of a judge. You refused to go away, you just will not budge.

You're a worldwide story, you got lots of press, 'cause you're a 30-year-old man-child whose life is a mess.

So just pack up and go, I don't care how. Michael J. Rotondo, will you please go now?

All Dr. Seussing aside, Michael, I'm stunned at your life choices. Where is your self-respect? Where is your pride? You refuse to leave a place where the people who should love you the most don't want you around at all. And instead of saving your last shred of dignity, or seeing a therapist, you're fighting them in court over it.

Think about what you're doing. Your parents filed a lawsuit because you've been squatting in their house in Camillus, New York without paying rent, buying groceries, or even helping around the house for the last 96 months. They've tried to kick you out since February, and you ignored them and instead did legal research about how you could force them to keep you.

It's one thing when someone has a major life crisis, and the only alternative to being homeless is to move back in with family. Sometimes that can't be helped, and it's understandable. But those people will contribute to the household. They pay rent and help with utilities. They buy groceries, cook, and do laundry.

But according to the court proceedings — you know, from when your parents sued you to move out — you have done none of these things. They gave you eviction letters, offered to pay for car repairs, and even gave you $1,100 (which you spent). They asked you to get a job and to sell things to pay rent, like your stereo and "any weapons you may have."

You live in upstate suburban New York, what do you need weapons for? Bear attacks? And am I correct in thinking your weapons are just a bunch of ninja stars and a pair of nunchucks?

And so, last week, you represented yourself in court and argued that you should be given an additional six months of free rent and food.

Why? You had eight years to get it right. Now you're going to turn things around? The last eight years were a bit of a dry spell, but things are finally looking up?

It's clear you don't actually care about anyone but yourself, Michael. Not only are you putting your parents through agony, you lost custody of your son late last year because you can't get your life together. I mean, people don't just lose custody of their kids unless they really screwed up. Even drug-addicted parents get a second chance if they turn things around.

Instead, you blame everyone else for your problems. Everything bad that's happened to you is because of someone else. You tried to get an adjournment from this case because the wrong room was listed on a public notice. You accused the judge — you know, the one from your parents' lawsuit — of not reading the case thoroughly. And now you're going to appeal his decision because things didn't go your way.

This is just one more instance in a long line of you blaming others for your problems. When is it your fault, Michael? When will they be a result of the things you did? A real man would take responsibility for his problems and solve them, not have pretend nunchuck fights in his bedroom.

What do you even do all day, Michael? Because it doesn't sound like you actually do much of anything. You supposedly own a business, but when you were asked about it in court — you know, where a judge had to tell you to move out — you said, "My business is my business."

What business is that? Are you selling nunchucks on eBay? Or ninja star polish? Are you a life coach to other grown men who won't leave home? Whatever it is, you don't seem to be very good at it.

And when you were asked to get a job, you said you were too busy. Look, you're a grown man with part of a college education. There are plenty of places that will hire someone with your background And you've got a good shot if you just remember "ninja star throwing" is not an applicable skill.

Frankly, if I were your father, I'd have thrown your stuff out in the street, changed the locks, and hired Stone Cold Steve Austin to guard the door. He'd rip those nunchucks out of your hand and shove them where your head has been.

Michael J. Rotondo, you need to just leave. No appeals or delays, no six month reprieve.

You're being a nuisance, you're being a boor. Act like a man and walk out that door.

You need to grow up now, of that there's no doubt. Michael J. Rotondo, just get the hell out.

Photo credit: Guy H. (Flickr, Creative Commons 2.0)

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