My House

I have just managed to break the flat's resident chopping board (impossible sounding, I know), so I thought now is as good a time as any to talk about my living situation. This follows a week where I melted a tupperware container to the hob and smashed two pint glasses in the biggest ever Robinson's Orange & Mango-related disaster known to man. At least I know I will get some of my deposit back in the end of the day, mainly because there is not £350 worth of damage to do in this flat, and I can not see my flatmate putting up much of a fight. I don't think he gets mad, even though I used to push his patients to the limit by constantly leaving the iron on, or the hob after I had made my tea - I was used to the reminding noise of a gas cooker - plus my rent includes all bills, so I don't really care. The bad thing is however, that any kitchen damage was clearly done by me, because as previously mentioned my flatmate does not use the kitchen. I believe he survives off his family's sandwich shop - which is just around the corner. He has his own fridge in the hallway that contains a few foil wrapped sandwiches and one litre of Volvic water. I don't even remember thinking that was strange when I moved in.

Anyway, I moved into this flat in central/West End Glasgow after leaving Aberdeen at the very beginning of the year, after replying to an ad on spareroom.co.uk or some similar flatshare website. I lined up a few viewings, saw this one and thought "yes, it's simple, cheapish, good location, very uncluttered and the flatmate seems non-mental". I saw two others, thought they were shit and basically paid my deposit and sorted it all out in one day trip down to Glasgow - like a man. I didn't take much stuff down with me, mainly my computer and some clothes and a sense of adventure and new beginnings. It was an exciting but quite lonely time for the first week or so, but all got much better when my flatmate (we're going to call him Ben) ('cause that's his name) invited me out for a few drinks at the pub round the corner. It was so good to meet new people and stuff that we went out every night, six nights in a row and had a great time. I had no job, and wasn't immediately worried about getting one.

I feel quite bad nowadays, because when this started Ben really tried to integrate me into his community and "show me a good time", but then I went and made my own friends, mostly people who do stand-up comedy and now have nothing to do with him. Such is life.

Now, every time I tell anyone about Ben they say "he sounds like a weirdo", the people who care about me say ""he sounds like a weirdo and I don't want you living there". He is not really, but here are some facts that would lead you to believe he is.
- The kitchen/sandwich thing.
- He keeps the hoover in his room and runs it twice a day, once RIGHT after his shower, and one early evening. I know for a fact the hoover doesn't work because I tried using it once, but have resorted to just dust-pan-and-brushing my carpet, which is highly inefficient, but much less frustrating than a chunky dyson that sucks the wrong way. Which is blowing, technically.
- He can spent more than 24 hours in his room without even leaving to go to the toilet.
- He plays poker online for a living. (I thought he was a freelance I.T. specialist or something, until he joined the dots for me, explaining his midday sleeping and midnight tantrums when he got robbed by some 13-year-old American.)
- He wears the same North Face fleece - all the time.

I think all his friends think he is gay, I have never seen him with a woman or anything, he is 31, and he has been living in this awful flat for 10 years (he owns it by the way - dunno how). I personally think he is just shy or something, but there have been a few incidents that have shown an awkwardness and total discomfort like when his mate stole his phone in the pub and texted me "Hi Ross, I like to watch you when you sleep. See you tonight. xxxx". I cottoned on immediately, but you have never seen anyone so embarrassed in your life. And I do hope he was embarrassed - not busted.

The other incident involved me strolling back from the bathroom wearing pink underwear (not important). He came out of his room, got a flash, then did this bizarre Mr Bean type turn around/retreat thing, with his eyes glued to the floor. There was probably someone in your year at school that did that all the time - you know the kind. But anyone I know would have said "nice pants, bender" - but most people I know are very comfortable with their sexuality. And fairly crass.

I can not really describe the social atmosphere of the flat. It's about as welcoming as Edinburgh. The whole flat has about 8 things in it, bare walls, a couch in the tiny living room, a toilet in the bathroom - that's about it. So we are both pretty much locked away in our bedrooms all the time and it sort of reminds me of those film scenes where two people would be dining, both sitting at opposing ends of a horrendously long table. An open bedroom door means, "I am out, you may download lots of stuff" - for some reason, when one of us downloads, the other's internet goes to crawling speed, it's a huge pain in the arse when you need the net to work, like we both do. Meanwhile, a closed door seems to mean, "Do Not Disturb", so we actually text each other in the rare occasion we need to share information - but to be fair, it is mainly to say "are you downloading something?"
"no"
"k"

So I am looking to move out, but still with in the West End of Glasgow, I'd rather not move in with a stranger again, but looks like the only way for now. Not being horrendously desperate to move I have a little more scope to be pernickety with which rapey Gumtree ads I follow up. The only flat I've been to see in the 3 months I've been looking was with a chap called Wilf, who was a bit of an old hippy. I was quite up for it, but the flat looked like a car boot sale had been sick in the hallway, and the bedroom that was going to be mine was literally the size of a double bed, with a double bed halfway up the wall. I'm too old for cabin beds - plus he had an Apple Mac in the living room. NEXT.

Just to finish with, I am finally making an effort to watch The Wire. Ben actually raved about it, when we used to actually talk to each other, and he gave me the first season to watch on disc. Having been dry of a TV show to be obsessed with for some months now, I'm going to plunge in until I become as smitten as everyone else has been with it - inevitable watching the entire thing in one time-sucking, square-eyed week. And I suppose I'll do some work too.