The Daily Wail

So I went on holiday and came back to discover that Plus One had somehow succeeded in falling UP a series of stairs, thereby breaking a lot of crockery we own. It is just as well I was feeling cheap and indecisive when I insisted we buy a mediocre but really economical set of plates and bowls because I didn’t have the gumption to make a decision on really nicely designed plates I could live with for years.

Apparently, Not-Greek-God heard Plus One fall and came and said it was his own fault for not leaving the lights on to the top flight of stairs where we live. Now, I do not like that light on. There is enough residual light through the ENORMOUS windows and the floor below without it. On encourages random strangers up the stairs to see what is behind the door at the top of it. (There are only two doors at the top, one to a toilet we keep clean and one to our ‘home’.) The light also disturbs me when I can see it on through the crack at the bottom of the door from my bed. Don’t ask but it is like every American horror movie nightmare seeing the little sliver of light.

Plus One admitted to me he fell mostly because he was shuffling round in slip slops, not because he couldn’t see. He also doesn’t really like the light on because in that building lights that go on never go off and people do just bang into your room without knocking, highly lit areas just encourage them like moths to a flame.

The thing is, he and Not-Greek-God seem to have developed some kind of a placid but intense dislike for each other. This is partly because Not-Greek-God views the kitchen next to his room as his. He doesn’t like me clattering about in it when I do dishes because I am noisy. He doesn’t like Plus One cooking with the door open because he thinks it is a fire hazard. He also resents Plus One turning him down when he tried to borrow some stuff off us.

We are not that fond of Not-Greek-God either. He has been known to leave the stove and oven on and unsupervised for undetermined but extensive lengths of time, with no sign he plans on cooking or returning. He does clean up his dishes but will not fish out anything he drops into the plug hole. He also seems oblivious to food he drops on the stove/counter/floor. When making dolmades for example, you will find scatterings of dried rice grains like shrivelled up maggots for days after on the countertop.

We also suspect he may be the person who sometimes uses the toilet but doesn’t always grasp flushing or not dribbling on the seat.

This has resulted in a rather ridiculous standoff.

Despite the fact that I have taken to leaving on an additional light halfway up the stairs in the evenings only that supplies enough light for anyone of normal eyesight, someone keeps switching on the light to our landing. At all sorts of funny hours of the night.

We switch it off. Someone switches it on. It is tiresome because if we go away for a few days now, it is quite clear we are not there and you can try break in because there is noone playing on/off light games with you.

It’s bizarre but annoying. A sort of silent warfare. I’m just hoping it sticks to just this. Because the next step is where he tries to do us in for breaking some house rule and have us evicted and we try convince the powers that be he smokes in his room (because I have a high suspicion he does).

(PS old letterpress people, I can’t figure out how to put a post on the original converted wordpress account they transferred our work to or how to access it)

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1 Comment

Filed under film, Housing

One response to “The Daily Wail

  1. The joys of living in a ‘community’. Normal suburban neighbours are bad enough.

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