Six months ago I was living with a guy I’d known for 5 years and one I’d known for 10 years. However, Eddie went in August (remember?) and now Housemate Reggae (soon to be known only as Reggae) is soon to move back to Hometown, leaving me looking for a new flatmate. And so, in the space of 6 months I’ll have gone from living with people I know very well to looking at living with people who are, essentially, strangers. I think we got really lucky with Housemate Louise – she may be a bad tempered old battleaxe, but she’s our type of bad tempered old battleaxe – but over the past couple of weeks or so we’ve seen some definite “no way” contenders for Housemate Reggae’s berth at Tufnell Park Towers. The worst by far being one who asked me if I was Australian.
“Ah, Kiwi then?”
“What!? No! And don’t you even dare suggest I’m South African! I’m British!” I hollered, beating my chest, “BRRRRRRITISH!”
“You sound Australian.”
“GAH! Get out!” I screeched indignantly, manhandling him doorward. “Ooooout!”
So last night a girl called Amy was due round. When we opened the door there was a bit of a pause as Amy, Housemate Reggae and I looked back and forth at one another.
“Weren’t you at..?”
Turns out Amy went to college with me and Reggae when we were 16-18, back in Hometown. After much furrowing of brows, a smattering of nervous laughter and more than a few Well Well Wells, we managed to piece together which friends we’d shared, who we’d gone out with, which pubs we used to favour and which house parties we’d gone to.
As I conducted the grand tour another memory hit me. Aged 17, The Otter and I headed off to Tenerife one summer in search of sun, sand and sex. We didn’t find any sex, and largely preferred our pool to the beach. But we did get rather sunburnt. And incredibly drunk. One night, out on the piss, we bumped into a familiar face. And who was it, but none other than Amy. She beckoned us over to join her and her friends. Lady friends. The adolescent Otter and I were over there like a flash, jockeying for position, feeling smug. Soon though the drinking games began and before we knew it we were out of our depth, watching Amy, with the aid of a funnel, polish off a pint of beer in a matter of seconds. Somewhat intimidated, The Otter and I slunk off sipping our vodka and lemonades.
“It must be some sort of destiny!” The Otter hurriedly spoke as I filled him in later on. I could sense him wriggling with aquatic excitement on the other end of the phone, “She’s following you!”
“Maybe she’s following you. You were on the holiday too remember, and she’s only reappeared since you moved to London Town.”
“Yes!!!” He liked that. “That’s probably it!”
As we shut the door I turned to Reggae.
“Random as fuck sir, but from what I remember she’s a nice girl, eh Reggae?” I said.
Housemate Reggae looked shifty.
Reggae pursed his lips and checked over his shoulder to ensure his girlfriend was out of earshot before muttering to me.
“I’ve pulled her.”
Amy decided not to take the room. I blame Housemate Reggae for being a crap kisser.
5 weeks ago