Tales from DRA: How To Be A Good Flatmate

Everyone has a story from their first-year flat. Bad manners, bad hygiene, bad cooking. We’ve all been there. Or so I’ve been told. My flatmates are simply delightful, a masterclass in communal living, decency, and respect. I am truly saddened by how many horror stories I’ve heard of late, and thus, I present to you all: how to be a good flatmate. Taking advice from my real-life experiences, I hope you can see that being a wonderful flatmate isn’t as hard as it seems.My flatmates are so incomprehensibly kind. They pay attention to the minute details of my personality. I often read Agatha Christie novels, specifically Miss Marple, as the village murder mystery has always appealed to my quaint sensibilities. One of my flatmates must have noticed this fact, as one day, upon entering the kitchen, my tupperware had mystically vanished. They had really manufactured me my very own mystery! After a sweep of the kitchen, I naturally had to collect clues, stepping into the role of Miss Megan Marple. What was entirely perplexing was that the tupperware didn’t seem to be taken for any practical purpose. The lid was left behind, rendering it entirely useless. No, this wasn’t simple Robin Hood thievery. This was an intentional man-made mystery. Shocking in the first degree. I, of course, then moved on to interviewing my suspects. Alas, the WhatsApp group ignored my pleas. I was not put off, however. The next day, I returned to the kitchen, eager to find more clues. Lo and behold, I found the missing beast, lidless, in my flatmate's cupboard. Bizarre. I snapped a photograph for the dossier and left it there, knowing the mastermind of this intellectual exercise must have had more clues for me than that. I then interviewed the owner of the cupboard, who denied even seeing the tupperware. This bewildered me; I could not see the Christie-esque inspiration behind the overt lack of clues. I checked the cupboard a day later and was bamboozled to find it had vanished! Again! Caught up in deadlines, I shamefully had to abandon the mystery.

And yet, there was another twist in the story. Another flatmate told me, weeks later, when the vanishing tupperware was but a faint dream, that it had been sighted. Now this was a shock. The very kitchen from which it disappeared now held my lovely plastic box. Hidden away behind the microwave, the thrilling mystery concluded. And I was ecstatic to have such thoughtful flatmates who would go to such lengths to set it up for me.

It really comes down to knowing your flatmates. For example, I have an absolute passion for cleaning. Some may call it obsessive, anal, or freakish, but wanting surfaces to be clean and clear is not necessarily a negative trait. My angelic flatmates naturally understand this, as they understand me. Every day, I am left with cleaning exercises to hone my skills. Every week, there is a new challenge to undertake. I have hoovered food embedded in the carpets. Bleached mould off the fridge shelves. Thrown away ‘food’ that could have passed for animal faeces. One time, a flatmate approached me with a concern. I am so grateful they feel comfortable enough to consult me. They had noticed a foul odour coming from the drain (no doubt from all the food that is poured down there). They asked me if I could deal with it. What an honour! I am the de facto cleaning lady for our flat. I love that my flatmates really encourage my hobbies. The drain was so disgusting that I had to fully unscrew it and clean all the parts separately. It was quite sharp, causing a minor injury that could have induced tetanus if it weren’t for my vaccination. 

Living in halls is a gamble, but take a leaf out of my flatmates’ book, and you might find it significantly easier. Get to know the people you live with, and a beautiful friendship may blossom. Or perhaps not.

Illustration by Eve Fishman