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If Only There Was A Simple Solution For Scrubbing Away Bad Flatmates

, , , , | Friendly | November 27, 2021

I’m the author of this story. Since my original plan to first change the lock and then call the landlord didn’t work out, I decided to move out of the flat and look for new accommodation entirely. The air in the house was tense, and by this point, we barely talked to each other… which led to this incident a few days before I finally moved away for good.

I decided to cook some risotto for myself, but due to unfamiliarity with the recipe, some rice burned and formed a thick, hardy crust that couldn’t be simply washed off with some soap. I decided to save myself some effort and use the baking soda plus vinegar trick to soften it up for later, so I laid out a layer of baking soda, poured the vinegar, and set a two-hour timer as I waited for it to take effect.

At some point before the timer expired, I heard a knock on my bedroom door.

Me: “What is it?”

Flatmate: “Dude, what the f***?  You’ve been b****ing about me and [Other Flatmate] leaving dirty dishes and cooking stuff around, yet when you do it, it’s fine?”

Me: *Raising my eyebrow* “What are you talking about? I’m pretty sure I put the fork and spoons in the dishwasher; it’s not like I have to run it as soon as I finish a meal.”

He scoffed at me and looked at me smugly.

Flatmate: “And what about the pot? Won’t you wash it, huh? That doesn’t count because it’s too hard? Is your prissy little a** too heavy to do it today?”

I finally got where he was going with this, and I was not happy.

Me: “That’s because I burnt rice in the pot. That crust is like tank plating; do you expect me to scratch it away with my bare hands?”

Flatmate: “Oh, f*** you. No, you aren’t going to bulls*** me. You totally left it there dirty. I have got better things to do with my afternoon than cleaning up after you and being b****ed at.”

Me: “And I don’t want to waste my time cleaning a—”

Flatmate: “Ah-ha! Now you admit it!”

Me: *Grumbling* “If you’d let me finish, and if you did something besides strolling around the town and partying in this flat, you’d know about how to remove crusts from pots.”

Flatmate: “Yeah, with elbow grease, which you clearly didn’t use.”

Me: “No! I used vinegar and some bicarbonate to soften the d*** thing up.”

The timer goes off right about then.

Me: “There, the timer has expired. Now I’m going to show you.”

Flatmate: *Crossing his arms* “Hmpf.”

I went into the kitchen, opened the tap, and started scrubbing away, with entire pieces basically sliding off as the fizzling mush got washed away. [Flatmate] looked sheepish to be sure, but at that point, I was completely done with his and the other guy’s s*** and refused to eat at home for the remaining week I was there until I managed to move into the all-male dorm I had already planned to spend the rest of the academic year in before looking for a new flat entirely after the summer. My new flatmates are much more reasonable nowadays!

Flatmates Like This Make Me Sick

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