Flatting. A Necessary Evil.

Flatting at my age is not something I do out of choice. It's determined by burgeoning interest rates, over inflated Wellington property prices, the realisation I don't want to be landed with a mountain of debt, and the fact what I made from my selling my last home is appreciating quite nicely thank you very much.

However by having made the business decision not to buy when the market is high I've been forced into a flatting lifestyle. Something I hadn't done for some time. I'll admit it has its benefits - cheaper utility bills for one - but it also has its drawbacks.

You see it doesn't matter how careful you are you never really know what a prospective flatmate is like until you've lived with them. Here's a sample of what I've experienced in the past year or so.

1) The Vocal Shagger.
When this girl scores the whole street knows (not just our house). The throes of passion are such that furniture in adjoining rooms is rearranged and plaster has been known to fall from the ceiling. Once the neighbours even came round to inquire as to whether someone had been hurt (though how they mistook orgasm for murder escapes me).

2) The Invisible Woman.
She pays all the bills on time and even does her share of the houseweek. Yet she is never seen. Months can go by with no sight nor sound of her. Once a room check had to be carried out to make sure;
a) she still lived here.
and,
b) She wasn't dead and mouldering in her bed.

3) The Slightly Bemused, Yet Devious, Foreigner.
This person plays upon English being their second language to their advantage. Expect huge delays on getting the bond, conniptions when it comes to getting the rent paid on time, and a complete incomprehension that living in a house necessitates paying a share of the monthly power bill. Trying to explain the situation will be met with a vacant look and the phrase "Que?".