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Life

07th Jul 2012

When Housemates Go Bad…

Housemates - you can't live with them, yet you can't pay your rent without them (unfortunately)...

Housemates – you can’t live with them, yet you can’t pay your rent without them. It’s a sad but true fact. You need these people in your life in order to have a roof over your head. Well…at least until you can actually afford a place by yourself and in this climate, God knows how long that could take.

We all know that living with strangers can be a bit odd. You feel awkward going into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. You don’t really ‘get’ the empty bean tin collection they’ve started beside the sink but aside from all that, usually you get on well enough with them. You see each other so often that you don’t really have any other choice except to bond with them and become friends. And for the most part, this works out well and it’s all happy families. Awesome.

But then there are times when you get unlucky. Majorly unlucky.

Throughout my years in shared accommodation I have come across some…eccentric…people but thankfully it has never had much of an impact on my life. I’ve lived with accountants, doctors and a veterinary student who kept tubs of live spiders in the fridge. I’ve shared a bathroom with architects, part-time models and a French nudist who occasionally liked to de-pant himself in the evenings.

I’ve managed to get along with all these people, but recently? Well, I went through housemate hell. I’ve seen the bad side of people living together and let me tell you, it isn’t pretty.

I had been house hunting for a while and was ridiculously excited when I came across the place in question. It was a beautiful apartment – all sleek and modern inside. It looked like a proper grown-up place.

“Sign me up!” I thought. “This is amazing!”

I viewed the place, enlisted my long-suffering father unit to help me lug my bags and within a week I was spending my first night in my new place.

And that’s when it started.

My new housemates were lovely, don’t get me wrong. We had the obligatory chat and first cup of tea. We all seemed to get along and one of the girls shared my obsessive enthusiasm for Michael Fassbender.

The first night I moved in there was the party to end all parties. Now, I’m all for having a good time, but not when I have to be up at 5.30am for work.

“Oh, it’ll pass,” I told myself. “It’s just one night.”

But it wasn’t one night. It was every single night for an entire week. And the frustrating thing? Every time I went out to voice my anger (and I was getting really angry. Sleep deprived and really angry) they were lovely.

“We’re so sorry,” they’d gush. “We’ll keep it down. We promise. So sorry!”

Needless to say, they didn’t keep it down and twice I found myself ringing my poor boyfriend at all hours to come and get me so I could get a few moments of blissful, uninterrupted sleep at his place.

Obviously they never cleaned up after the parties. The house had gone from sleek, modern utopia to bin bags and empty cans strewn everywhere. The kitchen looked like a health hazard and there was some suspicious brown substance left in my shower that I was afraid to touch.

Let’s just say that I quickly realised that while the girls were always nice to my face, they weren’t the best housemates on the face of the earth or anything – actually they were a bloody nightmare.

Not only did they throw ragers every night of the week, they also started taking things: food, make up, shampoo, a bottle of vodka – you name it, they stole it. And of course, every time they were confronted it was the usual niceness and sugar-coated denials.

I lasted one week in the place. One week – and then I couldn’t take anymore. I promptly rang the landlady and explained (thankfully I had yet to sign a lease). To be honest? She didn’t seem in the least bit surprised. Guess I’m not the first person to run screaming for the hills from this particular apartment from hell and while living with family isn’t always ideal (thank you, aunty!) getting a good night’s sleep is priceless. Here’s hoping my next renting adventure will be a little more… peaceful.

Have you ever had a housemate from hell? We’d love to hear your stories. Get in touch in the comments section below.

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