Never ever ever ever ever ever ever......share a house with a gay couple. Ever.
When I turned twenty a close friend of mine, a gay man (we'll call him Bruce), told me that he and his (much) younger boyfriend (we'll call him Dick) were tired of living out of each others parents' houses, and that they wanted to move out on their own. Only problem was, they couldn't afford the deposit and household bills on their own. Since I was sick of living with my parents (with whom at the time I was fighting tooth and nail) and wanted to get out, would I like to get a place with them?
We decided to sit down together at the pub and talk it over. We decided up front on some house rules, and each made preparations for moving in to our new shared house.
You can tell before I start that this is going wrong, can't you? Rather than launch a tirade of abuse agianst these two halfwits, I shall merely give you the best examples of their crimes.
1. Despite agreeing not to, Bruce and Dick decided to have sex everywhere in the house, and point out 'interesting' stains to me after I had sat on them. Preferably while I was eating.
2. At New Years they decided that, since I was depressed over living so far away from my girlfriend (before we got engaged she lived in the Midlands whereas I lived in Sussex), they would invite all of my friends around for a New Years party. Without asking me. They then decided to invite their parents around for the same bash and spent the entire evening screaming at me every time one of my friends said or did anything that might offend their parents. Decided to make a statement by herding their parents, an uncle and a family friend into their bedroom and keeping them there all night. Of course I got screamed at AGAIN after eveybody had left.
Yep, that REALLY fucking cheered me up, guys.
3. Decided after about three weeks in to stop eating their meals with me and eat in their bedroom together (even if, for example, I had cooked something for everyone which had taken special effort, like a roast dinner), thus leaving me completely and utterly alone every single night of the week.
I know what you're thinking: why not invite your mates over? Because if I did we would be screamed at every five minutes for 'making too much noise', despite Bruce and Dick themselves having their TV up loud enough for the planet of Mars to hear.
4. Heaven forbid I EVER have the audacity to step foot into their bedroom if they were out. But, of course, Dick would think nothing of rounding up anything lying around the house that was 'obviously' mine (i.e. anything that wasn't specifically recognisable as his) and dumping it on my bed. Usually after I'd spent effort cleaning up my room. They would both help themselves to any videos they wanted from my room, too.
5. I would be 'punished' if I left a plate or cup out overnight. On one occasion Bruce let himself into my room whilst I was at work, took the bag of Haribos I had bought for myself and ate them. When I got home and asked if he had seen them, he advised me that he had eaten them because I had left a coffee cup on the table that morning. I asked him why he felt he just couldn't admit that he stole them because he wanted them, he looked at me as if I was mad. Why would he, an upstanding member of society, possibly subject himself to the ingestion of assorted fruit sweets unless it was, in fact, to punish me?
zeppelin.
7. Bruce worked shifts. Since Dick was quite well paid, Bruce took advantage and only worked 6am to 12pm (four whole hours, fact fans). Since he was up at five every morning he felt this entitled him to sleep from the moment he got home until Dick got home (usually about 9pm), and shout at me if any noise was making woke him up. Of course he was a light sleeper and would sleep in the living room, not his bedroom, so everything from me walking in the front door to cooking my dinner would wake him up. *sighs*
8. Bruce, Dick and I used to share one night a week, when we would all pile on to the sofa and watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer (not that we were allowed to watch Angel afterwards, since Bruce thought it was 'crap', but that's another story). One evening, we saw the musical episode, 'Once More With Feeling'. Bruce was immediately on the internet downloading poor 'recorded-off-the-telly-speaker' MP3s of the songs featured in said episode, which he would then play endlessly all night, every night whilst he browsed the web. Until three in the fucking morning. Bearing in mind the previous point I made, this was definately hypocrite country.
9. This is possibly the worst offence of all. I had recently been made redundant and, being jobless, seperated from my girlfriend and having to walk on eggshells all fuckng day in case I woke Bruce, was naturally on breaking point.
One afternoon, after cooking lunch for the three of us and being left alone to eat in silence yet again, I find out that my girlfriend was deathly ill and coughing up large quantities of blood. Panicking, I pack some things in an overnight bag and get ready to hop on the nearest train to the Midlands. I knock on their bedroom door, to tell them what's going on and to politely ask them to feed my pet rat while I was away.
No answer.
I waited another twenty minutes (in case they were, you know, having rampant man-monkey sex) and knocked again, louder.
Nada.
So, being in a rush to leave (the train was leaving in twenty minutes and I lived ten minutes from the station), I wrote a polite note explaining what happened and stating my request. At the bottom of the note I clearly stated that if this small task was too much for them they should phone me on my mobile and I'd have someone pick the rat up and look after him whilst I was away.
I had been away for a couple of days when I phoned to see how things were going. Bruce refused to speak to me. Dick snidely told me that I had dumped my pet on them and that they were of a mind to leave him in the back garden to starve and freeze to death. I begged him not to, and asked that he let me arrange someone to pick the poor thing up, when Bruce came on the phone and told me that they were only kidding but they felt a bit put out.
That was the last time I heard from them, depsite trying to get in contact, for a fortnight. Then my girlfriend accompanied me back home, only to find that Bruce was refusing even to acknowledge my presence. After four days of this childish behaviour I find out that he had assumed, given my 'lack' of contact (bearing in mind I was leaving phone messages every other day that went unheeded) and my jobless nature that I was moving in with my girlfriend and finding work in the Midlands. They had BOTH assumed that I was simply going to run away and leave them to pay the rent on their own, which they couldn't really afford.
Think that's the worst it got? You'd be wrong.
Less than a week after we had cleared this matter up (i.e. I'd told them I had no intention of moving out), they gleefully informed me that THEY were moving out (having found a one-bedroom place they could afford) and that I had the choice of paying the £800.00 per month rent on my own or moving out myself. Fucking priceless.
Anyway, my girlfriend and I moved in together and we've never been happier. Bruce and Dick occasionally send me text messages inviting me to their new place, conveniently forgetting the six months of hell they put me through.
Both literally and figuratively... happy baby orangutan.
(,
Thu 20 Nov 2003, 20:54,
archived)
When I turned twenty a close friend of mine, a gay man (we'll call him Bruce), told me that he and his (much) younger boyfriend (we'll call him Dick) were tired of living out of each others parents' houses, and that they wanted to move out on their own. Only problem was, they couldn't afford the deposit and household bills on their own. Since I was sick of living with my parents (with whom at the time I was fighting tooth and nail) and wanted to get out, would I like to get a place with them?
We decided to sit down together at the pub and talk it over. We decided up front on some house rules, and each made preparations for moving in to our new shared house.
You can tell before I start that this is going wrong, can't you? Rather than launch a tirade of abuse agianst these two halfwits, I shall merely give you the best examples of their crimes.
1. Despite agreeing not to, Bruce and Dick decided to have sex everywhere in the house, and point out 'interesting' stains to me after I had sat on them. Preferably while I was eating.
2. At New Years they decided that, since I was depressed over living so far away from my girlfriend (before we got engaged she lived in the Midlands whereas I lived in Sussex), they would invite all of my friends around for a New Years party. Without asking me. They then decided to invite their parents around for the same bash and spent the entire evening screaming at me every time one of my friends said or did anything that might offend their parents. Decided to make a statement by herding their parents, an uncle and a family friend into their bedroom and keeping them there all night. Of course I got screamed at AGAIN after eveybody had left.
Yep, that REALLY fucking cheered me up, guys.
3. Decided after about three weeks in to stop eating their meals with me and eat in their bedroom together (even if, for example, I had cooked something for everyone which had taken special effort, like a roast dinner), thus leaving me completely and utterly alone every single night of the week.
I know what you're thinking: why not invite your mates over? Because if I did we would be screamed at every five minutes for 'making too much noise', despite Bruce and Dick themselves having their TV up loud enough for the planet of Mars to hear.
4. Heaven forbid I EVER have the audacity to step foot into their bedroom if they were out. But, of course, Dick would think nothing of rounding up anything lying around the house that was 'obviously' mine (i.e. anything that wasn't specifically recognisable as his) and dumping it on my bed. Usually after I'd spent effort cleaning up my room. They would both help themselves to any videos they wanted from my room, too.
5. I would be 'punished' if I left a plate or cup out overnight. On one occasion Bruce let himself into my room whilst I was at work, took the bag of Haribos I had bought for myself and ate them. When I got home and asked if he had seen them, he advised me that he had eaten them because I had left a coffee cup on the table that morning. I asked him why he felt he just couldn't admit that he stole them because he wanted them, he looked at me as if I was mad. Why would he, an upstanding member of society, possibly subject himself to the ingestion of assorted fruit sweets unless it was, in fact, to punish me?
zeppelin.
7. Bruce worked shifts. Since Dick was quite well paid, Bruce took advantage and only worked 6am to 12pm (four whole hours, fact fans). Since he was up at five every morning he felt this entitled him to sleep from the moment he got home until Dick got home (usually about 9pm), and shout at me if any noise was making woke him up. Of course he was a light sleeper and would sleep in the living room, not his bedroom, so everything from me walking in the front door to cooking my dinner would wake him up. *sighs*
8. Bruce, Dick and I used to share one night a week, when we would all pile on to the sofa and watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer (not that we were allowed to watch Angel afterwards, since Bruce thought it was 'crap', but that's another story). One evening, we saw the musical episode, 'Once More With Feeling'. Bruce was immediately on the internet downloading poor 'recorded-off-the-telly-speaker' MP3s of the songs featured in said episode, which he would then play endlessly all night, every night whilst he browsed the web. Until three in the fucking morning. Bearing in mind the previous point I made, this was definately hypocrite country.
9. This is possibly the worst offence of all. I had recently been made redundant and, being jobless, seperated from my girlfriend and having to walk on eggshells all fuckng day in case I woke Bruce, was naturally on breaking point.
One afternoon, after cooking lunch for the three of us and being left alone to eat in silence yet again, I find out that my girlfriend was deathly ill and coughing up large quantities of blood. Panicking, I pack some things in an overnight bag and get ready to hop on the nearest train to the Midlands. I knock on their bedroom door, to tell them what's going on and to politely ask them to feed my pet rat while I was away.
No answer.
I waited another twenty minutes (in case they were, you know, having rampant man-monkey sex) and knocked again, louder.
Nada.
So, being in a rush to leave (the train was leaving in twenty minutes and I lived ten minutes from the station), I wrote a polite note explaining what happened and stating my request. At the bottom of the note I clearly stated that if this small task was too much for them they should phone me on my mobile and I'd have someone pick the rat up and look after him whilst I was away.
I had been away for a couple of days when I phoned to see how things were going. Bruce refused to speak to me. Dick snidely told me that I had dumped my pet on them and that they were of a mind to leave him in the back garden to starve and freeze to death. I begged him not to, and asked that he let me arrange someone to pick the poor thing up, when Bruce came on the phone and told me that they were only kidding but they felt a bit put out.
That was the last time I heard from them, depsite trying to get in contact, for a fortnight. Then my girlfriend accompanied me back home, only to find that Bruce was refusing even to acknowledge my presence. After four days of this childish behaviour I find out that he had assumed, given my 'lack' of contact (bearing in mind I was leaving phone messages every other day that went unheeded) and my jobless nature that I was moving in with my girlfriend and finding work in the Midlands. They had BOTH assumed that I was simply going to run away and leave them to pay the rent on their own, which they couldn't really afford.
Think that's the worst it got? You'd be wrong.
Less than a week after we had cleared this matter up (i.e. I'd told them I had no intention of moving out), they gleefully informed me that THEY were moving out (having found a one-bedroom place they could afford) and that I had the choice of paying the £800.00 per month rent on my own or moving out myself. Fucking priceless.
Anyway, my girlfriend and I moved in together and we've never been happier. Bruce and Dick occasionally send me text messages inviting me to their new place, conveniently forgetting the six months of hell they put me through.
Both literally and figuratively... happy baby orangutan.
The rat?He's fine. They fed him, and they never got another chance to do him harm. He's upstairs now having a kip.
Bruce and Dick atually had a hamster. I should have called the RSPCA after I saw the way Bruce treated that poor little bugger. He used to fly him around the room (the way a six-year-old would fly an action figure, if you follow) and lob him around. Accourding to Bruce, the hamster enjoyed this. Amusingly, he kpet breaking out of his cage and making a run for the front door. Sadly they kept finding him and locking him up again. How demoralising.
On one occasion Bruce dangled the hamster over his coffee cup, gentle taunting "Ooh, I'm going to drop you, I'm going to drop you..." The next thing I hear is the campset shriek I've ever heard, followed by sobbing.
Yep. He dropped the hamster.
Luckily he was fine, and managed to successfully escape a few months later. Bruce was inconsolable. I was pissing myself laughing.
(,
Thu 20 Nov 2003, 22:19,
archived)
Bruce and Dick atually had a hamster. I should have called the RSPCA after I saw the way Bruce treated that poor little bugger. He used to fly him around the room (the way a six-year-old would fly an action figure, if you follow) and lob him around. Accourding to Bruce, the hamster enjoyed this. Amusingly, he kpet breaking out of his cage and making a run for the front door. Sadly they kept finding him and locking him up again. How demoralising.
On one occasion Bruce dangled the hamster over his coffee cup, gentle taunting "Ooh, I'm going to drop you, I'm going to drop you..." The next thing I hear is the campset shriek I've ever heard, followed by sobbing.
Yep. He dropped the hamster.
Luckily he was fine, and managed to successfully escape a few months later. Bruce was inconsolable. I was pissing myself laughing.