I have one that makes me sound like a total mug, which I was!
I was living in New York for a year and my company had put me up in a lovely studio apartment. I repeat, a STUDIO apartment. Plenty of room for me to live comfortably but definitely not intended for more than one person.
Three of my girlfriends decided to come visit, which I was thrilled about as I'd been quite lonely. Originally they asked if they could crash with me for a few nights to cut down on accommodation costs, then it somehow morphed into them staying for TWO WHOLE WEEKS with me in my tiny flat. I'm still not sure how this happened.
Two of them were quite sweet and understanding about the whole thing, and kept acknowledging what a massive ask it was and thanking me for saving them so much money. They assured me that they'd be fine on the floor and would bring camping stuff, their own towels etc, and would do their best not to be too disruptive (as I still had to work). The other, the CF, would just make non-committal noises throughout these discussions and make vague comments like 'oh but I don't think I own a sleeping bag'.
Anyway, I ended up borrowing some air beds and spare towels for them so they didn't even have to bring anything themselves in the end. And like a mug, I offered CF my bed on the first night as they'd had a long journey and she seemed particularly tired. Even though I had work the next day and they were on holiday.
I didn't get my bed back for over a week! And even then it was only after one of the Nice Friends insisted that I should have a night in my own bed, at which CF moaned and complained and then eventually agreed that she would be OK on the floor 'for a night', after which I was back on the air bed until they left.
She also complained over and over about the size of my flat and how cramped it was with the four of us, despite me having been very clear from the start that it was a studio flat. Every morning she would ask me what 'we' were doing today and, when I reminded her yet again that I was going to work, she would moan about being bored and me not having planned anything for them to do. In freaking New York!
She would always want to go to bed stupidly early, and because it was a studio flat this meant that the rest of us couldn't watch TV or even chat much because we would keep her awake.
She would also refuse to tip properly in restaurants when we ate out. I kept having to explain that the prices on the menu didn't include tax (as is usually the case in the US) so the bill would actually be a few quid more than whatever she'd ordered. But every time she would still say 'but mine only cost $X!' and then throw in an extra couple of dollars which barely covered the tax, let alone any kind of tip. This meant that I consistently ended up putting in more than my share to avoid insulting the waiting staff.
To top it all off she must have spent well over 3 grand shopping for expensive designer clothes while she was there and had to buy a whole extra suitcase to take home all her purchases... i.e. she was definitely not too skint to afford a hotel room, or to tip waiters!
A CF through and through, and a miserable cow to boot.