And two years later, they walk out of the house.
‘Now then’, I ponder to myself, ‘what can I write about a bunch of people I’ve been living with during university these past two years who haven’t had much of an impact on me.’
Well I guess that’s a start. The weakling has already left for home, the rest of us are planning a final, farewell meal. Now don’t get me wrong, I love these chaps. But am I going to miss them once I leave?
Well, no. It sounds awful, I know, and doesn’t do my introverted self any favours. Perhaps it’s down to why we’re all at university. Three of them are physics students, one a business student, the other a student of war and security studies. And then there’s me – the arty-farty creative writing and film student.
I chose to live with these people because, at the end of first year, I didn’t have any other options. Two, well three if you count the wife of one of the physics students, I’d never met before we moved in.
Yes, I lived with a married couple this past two years. And it’s put me right off marriage. Maybe I watch too much How I Met Your Mother, but the Chinaman and his wife struck me as just, well, not in love. It doesn’t help when the Chinaman said one day that he had cheated on her. Oh boy.
But it’s proved to be hugely entertaining living with people of this calibre. Pubs, cinemas, house parties and takeaway/Cards Against Humanity nights were fairly common and a lot of fun (even though the weakling refused to take part in the house parties. He’s petrified of social interaction to the point where he locks himself in his room).
Our highly different personalities clashed nearly as often as they complimented each other, and there are moments I shan’t forget. Such as all of us explaining to the Chinaman how you can’t leave half-eaten chicken carcases in the cupboard. Or… or… Ah, I thought I had more.
Oh well. At least only one of them was a genuine pain to live with. The chubster is just about the laziest person I’ve ever met. He skipped exams simply because he couldn’t be bothered to attend them. His room looks as if a pigsty exploded. And he keeps cats. Cats that he wouldn’t let outside. Cats that have overactive bowels. He’s one guy I won’t miss.
Yet it’s still been a highly liberating experience living with people who aren’t my family. Perhaps if I had ended up living with like-minded people, you wouldn’t be able to read this post from all the tears that would have poured into the keyboard from my eyes.
Either way, this is still another chapter of my university life drawing to a close. So overall, I shan’t miss the piled-up bins, the awkward silences whenever the Chinaman and his wife are in the same room, or the mixture of weed and cat-piss radiating from the chubster’s room.
At least this way, there are no tears. Perhaps it’s just typical male bravado that we shan’t miss each other. We all have our capes and we all love seeking out them pastures.
And guys, if any of you should ever read this, just be glad I didn’t write about those other times…