We Really, REALLY Don’t Want To Know

, , , , , , | Friendly | April 27, 2021

I rent a room in a house with a few other women. It’s a typical setup — a communal area and a small bedroom each. I don’t spend a lot of time in the communal area, but even less when [Roommate]’s boyfriend is there.

We shouldn’t even have visitors, but everyone looks the other way, especially if it is only for a night. But [Roommate] has him around for almost a week at a time. He’s creepy and obnoxious and I’m sure he steals food from the fridge. I only have one more year left at uni and then I will move, so I kind of switch off and just keep a distance.

I grab myself something to eat and cannot find my spatula anywhere. It’s a big, pink, silicone one, so it’s hard to miss. I make do without, but I’m keen to know where it is or if I need to replace it. I’ve asked everyone, aside from [Roommate], so I ask her when I see her next.

Me: “Hey, you don’t know where my spatula is, do you?”

Roommate: “Oh, we used it, sorry. I’ll wash it up.”

Me: “No worries. I just couldn’t find it in the kitchen anywhere. I don’t mind washing it. Where did you put it?”

Roommate: “Oh, yeah. It’s in my room.”

Me: *Oblivious* “Why would it be in your room?! You can’t cook in there with the smoke alarm.”

Roommate: “Well, sometimes we borrow it. Well, not all the time, but when he’s over, we—”

Me: “Oh, God, I cook with that!”

Roommate: “I’ll wash it!”

Me: “You will buy me a new one and never borrow anything from me again!”

Disgusted, I stopped talking to [Roommate]. A couple of weeks went by and she still hadn’t replaced the spatula. I reminded her and reminded her. She eventually refused, as the one I bought was “too expensive” and “no one needs a spatula as expensive as that.” 

I was going to leave it there, but she lied to the rest of the house and made me look like the bad guy. I told them what actually happened and they “banned” her from having guests around.

1 Thumbs

Life Goals: A Bathroom For Every Butt

, , , , | Friendly | April 17, 2021

I rent a room in a large house. I’m the only guy in a house full of women, so it makes sense that I have the room with an en suite and the rest of the women share the much bigger bathroom. It works out okay, actually. I have more space but I sweeten the deal by buying extra toiletries for the house. They get extra privacy. Win-win.

Out of the blue, one of the newer women, [Housemate] starts to kick up a fuss. She has fallen out with another woman who borrowed something or other, and she demands to switch rooms with me.

It goes on for days. Initially, no one wants me to swap, but eventually, everyone is so fed up with the constant moaning that I feel like I have no choice.

A few weeks after the change:

Housemate: “There’s no hand soap left.”

Me: “Okay?”

Housemate: “Well, when are you getting more?”

Me: “I don’t know, never?”

Housemate: “But we’ve run out.”

Me: “I heard you. I only used to buy it as I had the bigger room with the bathroom. I don’t anymore, so I don’t see why I should.”

Housemate: “Don’t be like that.”

Me: “You want the private bathroom, you have to stock it.”

Housemate: “Fine, whatever. I will buy my own.”

As other things ran out, the rest of the house would come to me asking about the missing items. I would gently remind them that I only ever did this as a favour and to ask [Housemate] if she would do the same now she had the biggest room.

This caused a bigger scene than the original fight. The house was divided. Many were angry at [Housemate], [Housemate] thought I should just keep paying, and some wanted [Housemate] kicked out altogether!

[Housemate] left eventually. I was offered the bigger room again, but I was so done with the drama that I had already decided to find a place of my own.

1 Thumbs

If Solidarity Won’t Do It, There’s Always Spite

, , , , , | Friendly | April 15, 2021

My flatmate and I have struggled with our weight. We think having someone there to keep us on track will help, so we make a pact to get fit together. We both switch to healthy meals, ditch the drink in the week, and promise to exercise together.

It works well at first. She lasts two weeks before trying to get me to drink with her. I tell her no, I’m sticking to our plan. It takes a couple of weeks before she starts to hint about wanting takeaway, which she only wanted at the end of each month. I just ignore her.

A few days after that:

Me: “So, you’re ready to exercise?”

Flatmate: “…”

Me: “Are you? I was going to get changed.”

Flatmate: “I don’t know, maybe.”

I’m literally waiting for her; any longer and we won’t have time.

Me: “Well?”

Flatmate: “Ugh, God. Why are you always telling me what to do?” 

Me: “We promised each other to do this. Part of it was to exercise on Wednesdays together.”

Flatmate: “No, okay?! No, I’m not!”

Me: “Fine, whatever. I’ll do it without you.”

I do. She avoids me for weeks. I make the meals we said we were going to eat. I let her drink alone every night and I exercise without her. After a few months, I’ve lost some weight and am feeling great. In fact, I have to buy some new clothes. I try to make amends and give her some of my nicer clothes.

Me: “These don’t fit me. You can have them if you want them.”

Flatmate: “Oh, because I’m fat, is it?”

Me: “Do you want them or not?”

She didn’t answer and just swore some nonsense about everyone being against her and something about not supporting her. Some people cannot be helped.

1 Thumbs

Being That Lazy Must Be Exhausting

, , , , | Friendly | April 9, 2021

My housemate is the living personification of laziness, from what she eats and her lack of cleaning and personal hygiene, to her work ethic and effort with other people. Laziness is a real bugbear of mine, but luckily, she spends most of her time in her room, so she can be as lazy and disgusting as she likes where she can’t bother anyone.

I’m in a particularly good mood and decide to give the common areas of the house a good clean. I’ve just finished washing up dishes and drying my hands and, as if by magic, my lazy housemate shows up with a load more from her room and drops it in the sink in front of me. 

Thankfully, I’m on the ball this morning.

Me: “Good morning! Don’t worry. The water is still nice and hot for you.”

Housemate: “You’re not going to wash them up?”

Me: “I would, but I’m going to take that old desk to the bins next.”

Housemate: “You would rather lump that around than do a couple of plates?”

Me: “Oh, I don’t mind. It’s good exercise, and smashing it up will be fun.”

Housemate: “Pfff, like anyone actually enjoys exercise.”

I feel like I’ve seen behind the curtain a little here; she genuinely cannot fathom how anyone could enjoy putting effort into something.

Me: “Oh, I think you might be wrong there. We (the other housemates) have been out for a run this morning. It is really nice out; you should join us.”

Housemate: *Sarcastically* “Oh, sure, I would looooove to. Idiot.”

She slumped off back to her room for the day. The plates never got washed. I think someone threw them away as they sat in the side for so long that they grew “things” on them. We made her buy her own plates after that, but I don’t think they have ever been washed, either.

1 Thumbs

We. Gave You. A List!

, , , , , , | Friendly | April 8, 2021

I live in a shared house with some friends. It works pretty well; we take turns and pitch in for most things. One of those is the cooking; we all contribute money and take turns cooking, apart from [Friend #1], who prefers to eat her own food.

This week, it’s [Friend #2]’s turn to cook. I check the plan in the kitchen to see what he’s making tonight and see something odd.

Me: “Hey, [Friend #2], what’s this you’re cooking tonight?”

Friend #2: “Oh, I’m not cooking tonight. [Friend #1] wanted a turn.”

Me: “[Friend #1]? Is she going to start eating with us now?”

Friend #2: “No, she wanted us to try some recipe from her country.”

Me: “Oh, okay. You told her what she can’t use, yeah?”

Friend #2: “I gave her the list, yeah.”

We have a DO NOT USE list of everything we are all allergic to or don’t like. It’s pretty long, so we don’t get to try many new meals, but it’s really important.

I am looking forward to what she will come up with. [Friend #1] serves up dinner and the leftovers for those still at work. It looks great, but something smells unpleasant to me. We eat and it’s bugging me.

Me: “This is great, but I can’t put my finger on what I can taste. Is it leek?”

Friend #1: “No.”

Me: “Fennel?”

Friend #1: “No.”

Me: “It’s not onion, is it?!”

Friend #1: “Yes! It was on the list so I cut it up really small and didn’t put as much in. But it wouldn’t taste the same without it.”

Me: “You can’t use anything on the list, no matter how small you cut it up! [Friend #3] is allergic!”

Friend #1: “I didn’t even put that much in. I don’t know why you’re making so much fuss.”

Me: “I’m making a fuss, because you ignored something to protect your friends. It’s a good job she’s not here.”

Friend #2: “I’ll throw [Friend #3]’s in the bin, just in case.”

Friend #1: “No, don’t throw it away. Really, it is only a little bit. She can pick it out if it’s that big of a deal.”

We were all in shock, especially as we all saw how poorly onions had made [Friend #3] just the year before. It got heated, and [Friend #1] stormed off, accusing us of “bullying” her and threatening to leave the house. Thankfully, we had enough food that night that there was something for [Friend #3] to eat, and we didn’t let [Friend #1] near our food again.

1 Thumbs