Although it's nice to be invited over to a friend's house, that doesn't always mean the friend's house is nice. Getting an inside look into someone's house can reveal things previously unknown, and some times, those things should stay that way.
People on Quora share the reason why they don't go back to a certain friend's house. Content has been edited for clarity.
“I Just Cannot Do It”
“I traveled from the south to the great north for the birthday party of the daughter of a then close friend. I had previously traveled to visit them, but had always stayed in a nearby hotel and had rented a car at the airport for my transportation. But for this trip, my then close friend insisted that she would be my personal chauffeur for the three days I would be there. She really, really wanted me to stay at her house with her family, which was, at that time, her husband, her daughter, and herself. I agreed with this, so shame on me.
First, she was late picking me up at the airport. That’s not so bad. Traffic in this particular large metropolitan city is horrendous. I get it.
Second, I get in her car and it is filthy. I don’t mean a little messy. I don’t even mean understandably unclean because she has a child (who was six at the time). I’m telling you, I did not want to touch anything and I am not a germiphobe. I felt like I needed a shower just looking at the catastrophe that was the interior of this car.
We get to her house. The exterior looks fine. The grass could have used a cutting, but nothing to send up any red flags. Then we get inside.
Yes, she has a kid. I get that. But there is a huge difference between messy because you have a child who leaves toys everywhere and there are dishes in the sink from last week and this week, and the carpet has so many stains that I can’t tell what color it is. Keep in mind, she is having a birthday party, at her home the next day.
I need to use the bathroom, and am shown to a half bath off the nasty kitchen. I go in, close the door, and turn around to see a bathroom that rivals any gas station in the absolute worst neighborhood in the lowliest slum of the deep south. I don’t even want to sit on the toilet. I hovered. No toilet paper. No soap to wash my hands. No hand towel to dry my hands. Nothing!
By this time, I’m trying to figure out a nice way of saying that I’ll just go to a hotel. I’m southern. We’re nothing if not polite. I just cannot do it. I can’t figure out a tactful way of telling my then close friend that I cannot stay in this filth. My dogs don’t even live in a house this dirty. I decide to suck it up and push through, although I am looking forward to a hot shower that night.
I am shown to her daughter’s room, as the guest room has too much in it for me to sleep there. Her daughter can sleep with my then close friend and her then husband. The room isn’t as messy as the rest of the house, but there are no bed clothes on the bed. I’m thinking, Hey. She washed the sheets for me. I’ll help her make the bed! But, alas, no. She went out and brought back a pillow without a case and a blanket. That’s right, folks. Bare bed with a pillow and blanket.
I’m left to change. I peek into the bathroom in hopes of maybe a quick shower. I’d rather sit on the downstairs toilet as to get in that shower. I’d have felt dirtier after I got out.
Keep in mind, this woman is having at least 20 children at her house the next day for a birthday party. I’m getting concerned.
I slept fitfully that night.
The next day I get up, splash some water on my face, and thank my very southern momma that she always made me keep handiwipes in my purse. I am erroneously thinking that we will spend the morning cleaning at least the downstairs for the party. Nope! We are leaving in her disaster of a car to go pick up food from all over town. Her then husband is left the task of loading the dishwasher…that’s it…just the dishwasher; and that is all that he did.
We get back and set up the food on the island and the counters in the kitchen. I tried to wipe them off with a paper towel, but I wasn’t quick enough to get them all done before my then close friend had put all the food out. Within the hour, people start to arrive.
I would have been mortified for people to see my house in that state of filth.
When it was time for me to go to the airport to catch my flight home, she didn’t want to get up and take me to the airport. She suggested that I call an Uber. This was in the infancy of Uber and my very southern momma had always told me to not get in a car with a total stranger, especially when you are in a town that you do not know. After a rather long discussion about why I wasn’t comfortable with an Uber and begging her to please just drop me at the airport, she took me to the airport. They were boarding my flight as I ran to the gate.
I’ve never been so happy to be home in my entire life. My husband picked me up and asked me about my visit. I said, ‘I need a shower.’”
“I Knew I Didn’t Like It”
“I had a work acquaintance who was married. I met her husband one day when she came to work. I tell you this so you get the backdrop for what’s next.
The day her husband came to work, my skin just crawled. There was something so insidiously evil about the guy I couldn’t look him in his face for more than two seconds at a time. It was literally like my eyes hurt just to look at him.
Regardless, there came a time when she asked me to spend the night at her house because her husband was (allegedly) out of town and she was afraid to be alone. My best friend Patty, who also worked at the same company me and this girl worked at, wondered why she would ask ms to stay the night when we were mere work acquaintances not best buds. I said I would think about it, so she invited both me and Patty to come to her house to become better acquainted and we could check out the place ourselves.
So we accepted her invitation and went to her house. I don’t remember what it was that her husband did, but the place was not the mansion she stated they had. It was a normal two-story two-bedroom house with one and a half baths, not the spectacular Tara-like structure she indicated she owned.
We go in and she showed us around. It was a nice little house with an attic and a basement. On the second floor landing, at the end of the hallway was a door. That door was the door to the attic. The attic was accessible by stairs and she indicated that her husband didn’t like her to go into the attic, that it was completely off-limits to her.
But being the Nosey Parker I am, Patty and I insisted that we see everything so she reluctantly let us in. She didn’t go upstairs into the attic so she could honestly tell her creepy husband that she didn’t enter it. Smart move on her part.
Patty and I go upstairs and that room was covered from floor to ceiling with violent sadistic adult pictures. The kind that makes your hair stand on end. On his desk, he had several long shot photos of….me! I have no idea why he had this photos, but I knew I didn’t like it.
Patty and I stared at each other for a long 12 seconds and then bolted. I never went back and I didn’t have anything to do with this co-worker again outside of work.”
“This Is Cold”
“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 cold,’ then threw his full plate on the floor.
I was stunned. He then got up and threw 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 an 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.”
“Cried The Whole Time”
“My mum never minded me staying at family friends house if she knew the parent. She didn’t particularly trust men, but single mothers she had a lot of trust and respect. She’d made friends with a single mother who had a daughter that went to my school, and was four years older than me.
I was chubby, shy and unbelievably friendly, and she liked me because she was very bossy.
While we were at her house with my sisters and my mother, she begged her mum for me to stay the night. I didn’t really want to and my mum didn’t really want me to either, but to make my friend happy, I acted as if it was my last dying wish.
I remember watching my mum wave goodbye from the car and how sad I felt inside. I didn’t want to stay the night there, and I didn’t know why.
The mother was lovely, but too ‘worldly’ for my innocent mind and it turned out we didn’t even have her watching over us as she left for the night to go on a date.
It was honestly an awful, awful sleepover and I cried the whole time I was meant to be sleeping.
It was because of one extremely uncomfortable moment: my friend got undressed in front of me and begged me to stay in the room to watch her get dressed because ‘we were all girls’ and ‘it didn’t matter.’
Instead, I screamed ‘No way!’ And ran out her bedroom and watched a terrifying movie playing on the living room TV that my friend’s grandpa was watching.
Maybe it wouldn’t have been so upsetting and embarrassing if she didn’t turn into such a sour person after that exchange. She became rude and unthoughtful.
Because of this, I knew I’d never ignore my gut instinct again. They were nice, but the girl was selfish and too different from me. When she called me back into her bedroom and said ‘You’re a baby, I’m not undressed.’
I sat awkwardly in the corner for the rest of the night while she sulked on her bed, playing her Nintendo DS.
I hugged my mum really hard the next morning. Funnily enough, the girl turned out to be a real brat when I saw her a few years later.
I called her name out and waved to her happily, thankful to see a familiar face. Instead of being kind or even congenial to a scared 7th grader on her first day of school, she laughed, hid her face and said to her friend ‘Oh my god get me the heck out of here. Can you believe she thinks she can talk to me?'”
“How Did She Live Like This?”
“Long ago while in the army I met a fellow OCS cadet. We were due to fly out of LA the following morning, and she invited me to spend the night at her place. I was happy, because this saved me a hotel and a cab ride, and my husband dropped me off and headed back south.
She opened the door to her apartment, the smell hit me before anything else, spoiled food, butt and dirty hair. I gagged a little and felt my eyes water. The entire apartment was filled with old food, take out, bottles, dirty clothes, insects, and she didn’t flinch. Kicking trash out of the way she invited me in. This gal was a hoarder! Not one word of apology, this was a regular day for her, no shame at all.
Duffel bag in hand, I was wondering how I could get the hotel I talked myself out of earlier. I was convinced I was going to get hepatitis, or typhoid, or fleas! How the heck did she live like this? Where did she study? Eat? Relax?
I moved heaps of clothes and trash for a spot on the floor and sat down, awkwardly. She went into the nasty kitchen, swatted some roaches off a can of something, and asked me if I had eaten. I lied, told her I was stuffed. Fortunately the stench was an amazing appetite suppressant. This was before cell phones so If I needed to escape I would have to borrow her phone and make a call and come up with an excuse. We would be working together for the next six weeks, I could not afford ill will. For the greater good I sucked it up and forced happy thoughts.
This gal had a boyfriend, he came over and also seemed unfazed. They went into her bedroom and closed the door, I lay in my tiny spot in the dark, listening to loud love-making all night.
So much for hospitality.
I tried not to pee, the bathroom was a science experiment gone awry. No food, no water, no blanket or pillow I just curled up on my duffle and tried to sleep fully dressed. I would not even take off my shoes.
Next morning, we had a plane to catch. I knew a shower was out of the question, I dressed brushed my teeth and off we went. I felt horribly grubby and certain I smelled. My friend did not shower either. On the way to the airport she announces she has to stop off at her parents home. We pull up to a single family home.
She gets out and instructs me to stay in the car, because her parents were not like her, they were very messy.
I was supposed to stay at her house when we returned, but heck no!”
“I was visiting my friend’s house while I was in his town. When we arrived at his house, he didn’t have his house key, as his dad was also visiting and was for some reason borrowing his. So he banged on the door awhile, yelling at the house and the people inside, who eventually stormed out of wherever they were and opened the door, groaning.
‘Oh,’ I remarked a bit disgustedly, noticing the man who had opened the door wasn’t wearing a lot of clothing. ‘That’s nice. You guys have anyone else here?’
‘Yep,’ my friend (we’ll refer to him by ‘K’) told me. ‘My whole family. Cousins, sisters, brothers, dads, moms…’
‘Moms?’ I started to ask as he greeted another one of his… whole family members.
‘Who the heck is this?’ The woman asked, pointing to me.
‘That’s Regina, I told you—’ K started to explain.
The lady snorted, ‘Whatever.’ And trotted back to her room upstairs.
I started feeling a bit uncomfortable. ‘Well. Let’s talk, I guess.’
So K and I started talking about what we’ve been doing in life and he started explaining to be about how his family’s house broke down in a fire so they had to live with him or something.
A man burst through the front door, overheating our little chat and bellowed suddenly; ‘Are you spreading our information to that woman?’
He ran across the room and nudged K hardly while staring at me. ‘Who. Is. She?’
‘I’m Regi… never mind. Um… I think I should leave,’ I decided.
‘No,’ The man said, putting a hand on my shoulder. ‘We need to talk.’
K’s Dad asked, ‘What are your intentions with my son?’
‘To have a friendly conversation while I’m back in town,’ I replied. ‘Um I really should go now.’
‘No, stay, Regina,’ K told me.
‘Yeah, stay, Regina,’ K’s dad said.
A few women around my age came downstairs, repeating, ‘Stay, Regina.’
I started getting creeped out a bit until K’s mother came down and started screaming at K.
I’m not sure what she was screaming about because she was speaking in German.
So then K started screaming back to her in German. Then he was slapped across his face by his dad for screaming to his mother, and so they all started screaming, meanwhile I was slipping away, grabbing my purse, and leaving the house.”
“It Was Horrific”
“My friend’s sister got married, and we had a party at their house and stayed late having fun after. It was late and I’d had too much to drink, so we decided that I would spend the night there. So we went to sleep in my friends room around midnight. At about 9:00am, I was awoken by several insects crawling all over my body; there were so many and, big, and ugly, it was horrific. So I jumped out of the mattress I was sleeping in, and hopped on a wooden stool nearby. I sat there hugging my legs and trying not to touch the floor till it was dawn, since I didn’t want to wake my friend who was snoring away despite those ugly creatures. After three hours of horror and uncomfortable sitting, I quickly dressed up and told him I that I had to leave.
On my way home, I went into a pharmacy and bought antibiotic detergent and treatments for bug bites, and bought a shirt, pants and a pair of slippers from a store. I went to a public steam, sauna and shower place, took a shower, put all my clothes in a plastic bag and discarded it.
I have a light skin, my whole body was covered in red dots, my back, my chest, my legs, but my arms got it the worst. Two days later, that same friend asked me about all the red dots all over my arms and I told him everything. Since then, I have been terrified of sleeping anywhere else but my home.”
“First And Last Visit”
“In the early 80’s, I was working in a small factory which produced men’s clothing in my hometown of Scranton, Pennsylvania. I was making more money than I ever dreamed weighing packages to be shipped to customers via UPS. There was a group of fun young women I met to hang out with at break times who were around my age. They weren’t college bound but ‘lifers’ – young people stuck in dead end jobs who were born in Scranton and who would likely die there as well.
There was a trio of sisters within this group that I particularly hit it off with. One night we went out to eat after work, which lead to drinking and more drinking, and ended up at their family home to crash.
After much stumbling and giggling, we ended up in a bedroom on the third floor of their turn of the century home and continued talking and passing a bottle. Eventually the three girls stood up and started to drag and push a large dresser in front of the closed bedroom door. Through my hammered haze I laughed, and asked what the heck they were doing.
‘Oh,’ the eldest replied, ‘that’s to keep my father out when we’re sleeping.’
Needless to say I sobered up immediately, and it was my first and last visit.”
“I Couldn’t Sit There”
“I’d known this guy most of my life, and when we were kids, I’d visit quite often. He lived with his single mum and the house was always immaculately clean. His family moved to the neighboring town though and I hadn’t seen him for a few years when I ran into him in town. He had moved back to town and go to his own house, naturally, he invited me over to catch up.
I got to his house and knocked on the door, it took a while for him to answer the door, but I could hear a lot of noise inside so I waited patiently. When he opened the door, I understood what took so long.
His entire house was covered in trash, knee-deep trash, wrappers, bottles, cans, paper, plastic… random, and gross. I very gingerly inched in already formulating an excuse to have to disappear quick. The trash was just the beginning, there were dirty dishes and cookware on furniture all through the house, some still holding desiccated or moldy food… the smell was something else. I didn’t want to think about what was under the surface trash… what my feet were touching.
He urged me to sit as he unburied what might have once been a lounge and dug around in the trash for a PlayStation controller. I couldn’t sit there, I made an excuse, and I got out of there while somehow holding my lunch down. Said goodbye and very politely turned down every offer he ever extended after that, opting to meet at a pub instead.”
“What’s The Big Deal?”
“Around summer, my mom had met these nice kids at church.
‘Why don’t you get to know them?’ she said to me, while all of us were riding on their boat. ‘If you want to stay, just let me know. If not, tell me.’
I nodded my head. ‘Sounds reasonable enough, Mom,’ I replied. ‘Will do.’
The kiddos were very, very nice. We had done Snapchat filters together, recorded ridiculous TikToks, and watched a few horror movies while having ice cream.
Sometime throughout the movie, two out of four of us (the two other kids besides the host’s kid and I) decided to go upstairs and goof around. I didn’t mind it, because it was their business and not mine. Well, the host’s kid thought that it was incredibly rude not to hang out with everyone, since we were going to have a sleepover together.
‘K’ (the host’s kid) stomped up the stairs to see what they were doing.
‘Shouldn’t we leave them alone?’ I asked, not really wanting to get in the middle of it.
‘Damon, I’ve known them longer then you have, let me deal with this,’ K answered.
K opens the door with ‘A’ and ‘E’ not really wearing any clothes.
‘What the heck are you doing?’ K yelled, seeing that they didn’t have proper clothes on, and instead changed into mighty revealing clothes. K storms into the room, shutting the laptop.
‘What were you looking at?’ K yelled.
‘We just wanted to show ourselves to Omegle! What’s the big deal, K?’ E asked.
I shake my head, and decide to intervene. ‘You never know who is going to be looking at you through the screen. There are a lot of perverts and predators on there, too. Just be careful.’
A and E shook their heads, replying with ‘So? What if someone is really hot and wants our Snapchat username?’ not really caring.
That was K’s breaking point. K runs down the stairs, (me hurrying to catching up) and all I can hear is a banging noise. When all three of us run downstairs, we see that K is banging their head against the wall.
We got there too late, because the time we got down there, K’s head was covered in blood from banging on the wall.
‘Are you okay?’ I asked, setting my hand on their shoulder.
‘I’m okay with you, but not with A and E! I swear to God I’ll kill them!’ K shouted, turning around.
Within a flash, K had grabbed a kitchen knife and began swinging it around. A and E screamed, while running down to the basement, locking the door. Me, on the other hand? I ran to the upstairs bathroom and started to have a panic attack for the next several minutes.
There’s a window in the bathroom, leading to the view of the front of the house. I hear yelling, so I look out the window.
‘Put the knife down, K!’ K’s mom yells, trying to take the knife away.
‘No, this is what you wanted! You had A and E over here just so I would get triggered like this! I’ll kill them!’ K screeched.
All of a sudden, there’s a quick arm movement and screaming of bloody murder. ‘K, why the heck would you do that?’ The mom yelled. I didn’t realize what K had done until I saw continuous drips of blood leading into faster paces of blood running down their face.
K had sliced their forehead open with a kitchen knife.
K continued to scream at them, shouting vulgar things, and I was scared they were going to see me. I ducked underneath the toilet seat, until I look back out to see K being loaded into the car and the door slamming shut.
I ran down the stairs so fast I thought I was going to fall. I had made my way down to the basement, where the other two were bawling and shaking.
We had to call one’s parents, and E told their relationship partner about the situation. They started to freak out, not knowing what would happen. We all comforted each other and started to cry. We headed back upstairs and K’s dad called all of our parents on the horrific scene of out of control mental illness that we had witnessed. My mom was concerned, but she knew I had seen worse.
The next morning, E and I wake up close to each other. It’s around 8:00. We had gotten only 7 hours of sleep.
Out of nowhere, I hear stomping of feet coming down the stairs.
‘Good morning, guys! Wasn’t last night a blast?’ K asks, with bright blue stitches in their forehead and a medical pad over their right eyebrow, from where they had banged their head.
‘Uh-huh, yeah.’ E responded, trying to keep low eye contact.
‘My mom says both of your mom’s will pick you up around 10:00. That means we can watch more movies together!’ K said, all excited. E and I just nodded, getting back to our cereal and trying to avoid any eye contact.
My mom came at 9:30, and I was happy to get out.”