My Flatting Memoirs Part 1

Friday June 12th 2009 marks the twentieth anniversary since I left my parents home.

To celebrate my twenty years of independence, I thought I would write about some of my bizarre/humourous flatting experiences. I'm now married, therefore my flatting stories are becoming more historical ... and possibly occasionally hysterical as time moves on.

I have made many great friends via flatting over the years, but I have also lived with some truly bizarre, or even quite annoying individuals over the years. To protect the names of various folk I've flatted with, I'll just refer to them as an alphabetical letter.

My very first flat comprised of a six bedroom place in Moray Place Dunedin. I moved in, on the 12th June 1989. My bedroom was not much bigger than a shoebox, but it was comfortable and easy to heat in the winter..

On the whole, my flatmates here were quite good. But even good flatmates can cause strife at the inconvenience of others.

For example, Flatmate F rarely did any cleaning or housework. He sat on his lounge chair eating cold fish, peaches, baked beans or spaghetti straight out of tins with a fork or spoon, just so that he could avoid washing dishes.

When it came to F's turn to empty the rubbish and place it outside for collection, he just could not be bothered. In the end we resorted to taping the rubbish bag to the outside of his bedroom door and taping the letters 'M T ME' on the bag.

F also locked himself out of his bedroom one time. He decided that the best way to break into his own bedroom, was to remove ceiling tiles in the adjoining hallway, and climb up and over the wall and and enter his bedroom via the ceiling. Unfortunately, F was rather heavy (all that canned food and McDee's of course), so when he attempted to climb over the ceiling, the metal brackets holding the tiles buckled under his weight. He crashed through his ceiling, sending broken tiles, dust and himself crashing on to his furniture below. I had seem his feet disappear up through the ceiling and we all heard the noise.

Flatmate A was a lad from a small town who enjoyed partying. One Friday night, when having a few drinks, he vomited down the back of a large night-store heater. The heater slowly warmed up this mess and created a pungent smell which rendered the lounge almost uninhabitable.

Eventually, Flatmate A was made to clean up his mess on Sunday night, ... 48 hours later!