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Flatmates Like This Make Me Sick

, , , , , | Friendly | December 7, 2020

I’m a university student sharing an apartment with two other people. Despite the health emergency, my flatmates have decided to keep inviting people over for the night, albeit at specific four-person schedules. Aside from not being too keen on their behaviour right now, I usually don’t mind it too much, as we eat at different times and they take care of aerating places and wiping things down after all is said and done.

I go to bed rather early on a night when someone’s been invited over. The morning after, as I wake up, I feel something blocking me from rolling over. Startled, I look to my side and see a person curled up next to me.

Me: “Holy f***, who the h*** are you?” 

I hear a groan.

Girl: “Don’t be so loud. I have a headache.”

Me: “I’m going to give you more than a headache if you don’t get off the bed!”

The girl groans again as she slowly sits up and massages her head. At this point, a foul smell hits me, so I crane my neck over to the other side and see there’s a puddle of vomit on the floor and some of it splashed on my sports clothing.

Me: “That’s nasty.”

Girl: “Look, man, I was drunk, and now I’m hungover. Just let me get out of here. I need to get back home before my parents rip off my arms.”

Me: “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me who you are and who let you in my room, and you help me clean up.”

She sighs and gives out a pained moan.

Girl: “Ugh, and here I thought you were chiller than this. I knew I shouldn’t have listened to [Bad Flatmate].”

My eyes go wide open. I get up, put on my slippers, and furiously bang on [Bad Flatmate]’s door.

Bad Flatmate: “Jesus f***, mate, calm down. What’s the deal with you?!”

Me: “What’s my deal? What’s your deal?! Why is there a girl in my bed and why did you let her in?”

Bad Flatmate: *Annoyed, opening the door* “Because she came here by car and was drunk. We didn’t have enough room in the living room, so we figured you wouldn’t mind if—”

Me: “When did I say you could enter my room to give a bed to random people?!”

Bad Flatmate: “What, did you want to have a dead girl on your conscience? She couldn’t drive!”

Me: *Gritting my teeth* “You shouldn’t bring people home to hold parties, yet here we are, with a hungover girl that shouldn’t be here vomiting on my clothes while sleeping in my bed, when I didn’t ask or explicitly allow it, because of you, you f****** moron.”

Bad Flatmate: “You’re a little b****, you know that? Y’know what, fine. I’ll help you clean up if that’ll shut you up.”

By the time he agreed to help me clean, the girl was already gone. I think I’m going to need to invest in a new lock.