Which Stings More? The Chilis Or The Shame?

, , , , , | Friendly | January 22, 2021

While at university in the 1990s, I am flat-sharing with a couple of other chaps. I am studying in my room and can hear the sound of rhythmic chopping from the kitchen. The sound stops, shortly followed by a cry of pain. I dash to the kitchen with the thought that my flatmate has done himself a mischief with the knife. I arrived to see my flatmate with a weeping eye.

Me: “Are you okay?”

Flatmate: “I was cutting some chilis and rubbed my eye! F***, it hurts!”

Me: *Suppressing laughter* “You numpty. I’ve got some hayfever eye drops in the bathroom cabinet. They might take the sting out of it.”

A couple of minutes later, there is a scream from the bathroom. I make my way to the bathroom and knock on the door.

Flatmate: “F***, f***, f***…”

Me: “You all right in there, mate?”

Flatmate: *Pained* “No. I decided to use the toilet while I was in here…”

Me: “And you didn’t think to wash the chilis off your hands first?”

Flatmate: *Still pained* “No.”

Me: “I’ve heard milk is supposed to take the heat out of it. Shall I get you glass to dip into?”

His reply would have made a sailor blush. He eventually left the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, holding it away from his crotch. For the rest of the day, I couldn’t look at him without giggling.

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The First Step Is The Hardest

, , , , , , | Friendly | January 7, 2021

Lockdown has not been kind to my roomie. She has always been a bit lazy, but now, given the excuse not to exercise or go outside, she spends every hour she’s not working sat in one spot on the sofa, normally snacking.

She tells us she is not happy and wants to lose weight and that we “need” to help her. We are happy to help. 

So far, by her request:

We’ve removed all of our snacks from the communal kitchen and then the alcohol; this doesn’t work. We’ve started to make an extra portion of any healthy food we made for ourselves; she won’t eat it. We’ve invited her to join in our running and workout apps and DVDs; she can’t be bothered. We’ve discouraged her when she wanted takeaway, etc.; she just gets angry.

After a few months, we are all fed up with her and ready to give up on her. I go to talk to her one more time and find her sulking into a tub of ice cream. 

Roommate: “Why is it so hard to lose weight? I’ve tried everything!”

You can’t help people who don’t want to be helped. She keeps complaining and sulking but we tune her out.

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Irritable Buddy Syndrome?

, , , , , | Friendly | January 5, 2021

I am not deaf, but my mother is. Both she and my hearing father taught me sign language from an early age. When I start university, [Housemate #1] finds this out, and I teach her some basic signs.

About a month into the first term, [Housemate #2] comes running up to me after I get home late.

Housemate #2: “[My Name]! I heard from [Housemate #1] that you’ve been teaching her IBS!

Me: *Very tired* “I’m… sorry?”

Housemate #2: “Could you teach me some? I’m a quick learner!”

Me: “Teach you some…”

Housemate #2: “IBS!”

Me: “I don’t… What?”

[Housemate #2] is getting steadily more irritated.

Housemate #2: “IBS! I-B-S! I… B… SSSSS!”

[Housemate #1] comes racing down the hallway toward us.

Housemate #1: “BSL! SHE MEANS BSL!”

Housemate #2: “Wait… What was I saying?”

She actually ended up being quite a quick learner, as promised, and when my parents visited, she was able to talk to my mum quite well! I still sometimes tease her by asking her if she’s practiced her IBS.

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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.

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Who The H*** Raised You?!

, , , , | Friendly | December 4, 2020

Back in my university days, I have three extremely immature housemates. The worst part about living with them is them constantly throwing tantrums, or worse, breaking things. For example, one day, I come home to find them randomly punching holes in a bedroom door because “it’s funny!” We are clearly on our landlord’s bad list and there is little chance of getting any deposit back.

One morning, I come downstairs to the living room and see a huge greasy stain on the wall. Instantly, I’m confused as to why the h*** that is there. One of my housemates is there watching TV, so I decide to ask.

Me: “Err… why is there a huge stain on the wall?”

Housemate: “Oh, yeah, I bought a burger last night and I didn’t like it, so I threw it at the wall!”

Sadly, I’m not shocked by this, as they are literally so immature that this has become normal behaviour.

Me: “Why didn’t you just throw it in the bin?”

Housemate: “Because I didn’t like it!”

Me: “Really? That’s your excuse? The bin is literally two metres away. You couldn’t have thrown it away like a normal person?”

Housemate: “I DIDN’T LIKE IT!”

At this point, I gave up having any kind of rational discussion with him and just walked away. Thankfully, I’m not in contact with a single one of them anymore. Also, no, we didn’t get our deposit back!

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