chocolate choux
VIP Member
I had a flatmate who I thought was going to be great to live with. He was a keen cook and made lovely food from scratch, and he seemed to be a neat and tidy person
Turns out he wasn't. He would make lovely food to share with me but leave mess everywhere and clean it up maybe once a week, if at all. Curry all over the cooker, flour on the floor (he made pizza dough/bread from scratch). The flour was ridiculous, it seemed like more ended up on the floor than in the dough, and my socks/tights/feet would be covered as if I lived in a bakery
We decided that we would share the washing up and agreed that a ‘load’ could be considered as small as the items from one meal. In the interest of being fair, I would do the day’s washing up in the evening as there wouldn’t be much from breakfast/lunch. Instead of following suit or even taking advantage, he would let it all pile up for days until it covered all the counter space in the kitchen. Then when we got flies in the summer, he blamed me. Yeah it my bananas that were the problem, not the food that was rotting on the unwashed pans
He would also leave his plates and cups on the tiny coffee table until there was no room for anything else. We had no dining table so would eat on the sofa and put drinks/condiments on the table. He didn’t understand why I did not want to eat my dinner right next to his manky breakfast stuff
Probably the worst thing was his farting habit. He managed to control it around others but would always subject me to it. They fucking stank. He’d make a nice dal which smelt wonderful while cooking, but his farts for the next day had exactly the same smell - just with the addition of shit. I had to stop eating it. He’d usually cook enough for a few days so I’d spend half the week trying not to breathe. Sometimes he’d fart loads and I’d say “just go do a shit” and he would. I literally had to tell him to go to the toilet
Turns out he wasn't. He would make lovely food to share with me but leave mess everywhere and clean it up maybe once a week, if at all. Curry all over the cooker, flour on the floor (he made pizza dough/bread from scratch). The flour was ridiculous, it seemed like more ended up on the floor than in the dough, and my socks/tights/feet would be covered as if I lived in a bakery
We decided that we would share the washing up and agreed that a ‘load’ could be considered as small as the items from one meal. In the interest of being fair, I would do the day’s washing up in the evening as there wouldn’t be much from breakfast/lunch. Instead of following suit or even taking advantage, he would let it all pile up for days until it covered all the counter space in the kitchen. Then when we got flies in the summer, he blamed me. Yeah it my bananas that were the problem, not the food that was rotting on the unwashed pans
He would also leave his plates and cups on the tiny coffee table until there was no room for anything else. We had no dining table so would eat on the sofa and put drinks/condiments on the table. He didn’t understand why I did not want to eat my dinner right next to his manky breakfast stuff
Probably the worst thing was his farting habit. He managed to control it around others but would always subject me to it. They fucking stank. He’d make a nice dal which smelt wonderful while cooking, but his farts for the next day had exactly the same smell - just with the addition of shit. I had to stop eating it. He’d usually cook enough for a few days so I’d spend half the week trying not to breathe. Sometimes he’d fart loads and I’d say “just go do a shit” and he would. I literally had to tell him to go to the toilet