I didn't have any roomates that were making meth or coke in my apartments, but let me tell you about my last roomate. Let's call him Alex (because that is his name).
Now Alex seemed like a nice enough guy. Fairly quiet, reasonably mature, studious kid. But whenever he was in the apartment he was in his room. He ate in his in room, studied in his room, watched TV
in his room, slept in his room, he even had a mini-fridge in there too (and I found this extra perplexing because he had the small bedroom, a tiny 10x9' box, I had the big bedroom which was almost twice as big). Literally the only time I saw him was when he was going to the john, when he came or went when I was not in my room, or around campus. He was fairly clean, quiet and curteous. But I felt like I was living with a stranger. And that was a weird feeling, left me a bit ill at ease. I think I talked to a few of his friends that were over somewhat often more than I talked to him.
Stop drop and roll will not save you in hell. --- seen on a church marque in rural Virginia