Weird Housemates Part 1
The first clue that I got that living with A with going to be a weird experience was when he introduced himself to me as I was moving in. I was moving into the ground floor room of a house of 10 guys.

He was dressed totally in black, a round shouldered, acne scarred, potbellied individual. His face was glowing red, his ears sticking out behind the vague buzz of his half chopped hair style, a crusty towel drapped over his stick thin arm, a weird smile playing around his chapped and thin lips. He introduced himself as I unlocked my door, and started to move my stuff in. As I got to know the others in the house it was clear that he weirded them out as much as me. We nicknamed him Igor.

About 4 days after I had moved in, my then girlfriend returned from a trip around Serbia and Croatia. She was coming back to the UK for just two weeks before going back home to the USA, thus inevitably ending the relationship. I went and picked her up from the bus station at 4am, we got back to mine at about 4.30am, and she wanted a shower.

She went upstairs, showered, presumably vigorously towelled herself dry before unlocking the bathroom door.

Igor was at keyhole level, kneeling on the floor outside the bathroom door. She stared at his greasy head, he stared right back at her chest. She got freaked out and came downstairs and told me. I went to find him and asked what the hell was going on. He laughed in a very sinister way, and went back to his cellar room.

A few days later my girlfriend and I had been out to dinner. We were a little drunk, and rather horny, so we were heading back to the house as quickly as possible. One thing rapidly lead to another and within minutes of getting back we were entwined in a writhing mass of hands, legs, and various other wobbly body parts. Things progressed nicely for a few minutes until from outside my door came a shout, followed by a string of swearwords in Russian, a bang, a crack, more swearing in a mixture of English and Russian, and someone running away.

"What the fuck was that?" I said. My girlfriend looked up at me and, as she had been born in the USSR and spoke Russian, said, "Someone has just been called a dirty cunt". Interesting, I thought. I put some trousers on and went out of my room, to find one of my other housemates, a Russian guy called V, there with his fiance. They had come back and had caught Igor with his hands down his trousers listening against the door of my room. V, to be fair, had kicked him in the balls, then slammed his head against the doorframe of my room.

It got worse. A few days later V's fiance and my girlfriend were in the kitchen chatting in Russian. Igor came in, and then asked them if they'd both been "well knobbed" last night, before staring intently at their breasts.

We had 'words' with him again, pointing out that neither of our ladyfriends enjoyed being used as a mastubatory crutch by him, and perhaps he would like to calm down a bit or V would "get some of my Chechen and Azerbaijani friends from London to fuck you up".

Thing calmed down a bit after that and Igor mostly didn't bother us for a few months. My girlfriend went back to the USA and things seemed to be fairly normal.

Then we noticed a smell in the kitchen. V and I spent ages trying to figure out what it was, going through all of the cupboards to see what the source was.

Eventually we found it in Igors cupboard. He had a large plastic bag full of rotten oranges, USED condoms, and various stained tissues right at the back of his cupboard. The bag was juicy, purple and green coloured. I threw up in the bin, V threw up in the sink. Igor, it must be pointed out, never had girls over, never had a girlfriend...

He started taking food from us, coaxing local cats into the house with fish, commenting loudly that he'd heard V and his fiance the night before, asking another housemate all about his wanking habits with a weird halfsmile on his face. He showered once a week and changed his clothes once a month. He'd wander around the house at all hours of the night humming the same tune loudly, unscrewing lightbulbs, and listening at doors (he was caught a few times and shouted at). He never flushed the toilet after using it and, as he lived almost exclusively on takeaways and microwave food, he produced the most prodigiously foetid turds I have ever smelt.

At the end of the year when I started dating another girl he made repeated comments about the (admittedly impressive) size of her breasts to her. She slapped him everytime, but he'd smile and then go back to his room.

Eventually, the year was over and I moved out into, as it happens, another house with weird housemates. Igor went to London and I have no idea what he's doing there. He'd managed to stay in the house, despite everything, because the landlady loved him and refused to believe anything said bad against him.

Weirdo.

Apologies for length. Possibly.
(Zapiola zip-zap-zop, Thu 26 Feb 2009, 16:24, 1 reply)

what an awful man.
Fair play to the russian lad for kicking him in the balls.
(BarryChuckle, Thu 26 Feb 2009, 16:59, closed)