I literally ran away from him as he lay there naked – Tinder Stories- Part 1.

So the following is a real story.

Sorry in advance mum and dad.

It was a late evening and I was at home.

My phone went off.

I had a Tinder notification.

Let’s call him Max.

Max and I had been talking for a few days, he moved to Auckland a few months ago. Left a longterm relationship, back in his hometown which turns out to be on the other side of the world.

We moved off tinder to KIC. Which for those of you who don’t know, is an app that works exactly like Messenger but you don’t have to give over your name.

Now you might be thinking, “Seren, why would you do that?”. Because Max was not relationship material. Not to me.

Standing at over 6 foot (at least that is what his bio said) and having an accent his downfall was that he the brains of a slow lorris.

Now before you get your judgement pants on and take the road of thinking you are better than me. I will remind you that everyone has a moment when their needs outweigh their rationale (and by rational I mean their sex drive is far more powerful than their standards)

The conversation had veered away from the usual “so what did you do today?” to the “what are you doing tonight ;)”

Then he gave me his address.

On a nice side note and safety tip, if you are going around to essentially a strangers house here are my tips.

  1. give that address to two different people.
  2. go to their house (you can always leave, just not from your own place)
  3. park your car 2 mins away from the location.
  4. wear flat shoes.
  5. know where the exits are and what the locks look like.
  6. don’t actually let your guard down.
  7. keep your phone on loud.

The internet gave me these and I am thankful for the internet as this story will back these hot tips up.

So I sent this address to my best friends and thought I’ll just get a little dressed up. Not for him but for me, dude was lucky I was even coming over. As I was applying some mascara my phone went off quite a few time.

It was, of course, Max because all the other men in my life were sleeping. Turns our boys need far more sleep than girls. But not our mate Max.

He was asking me how long I was going to be.

I had looked his address up, he was a 6-minute drive. So I told him 40 minutes. Because this isn’t Uber Eats.

He told me that it was too long. I told him either wait 40 minutes or wait for forever.

Then he asked me how I was getting to his.

I said on a magic carpet.

Time ticked passed, I grabbed my keys, phone and wallet and headed out the door at 11.45pm at night.

And at 11.51pm I was about 1.5km from his house and I told him I was just finding a park. For the 6 minute drive, I had been ignoring his messages about if I was actually coming.

I parked and the first warning sign came on. QUITE LITERALLY.

My engine light came on in my car. I thought to myself, welp you are already here, it is better the car goes completely cold before you drive it again and in the morning just sort it out. So I jumped out of my car and started to walk toward Max.

When I arrived, he meets me outside and gave me a quick hug before ushering me through the front door.

It was a simple lock and I duly noted that.

He showed me through to his room. Which was a mess.

I had given the dude 40 minutes and the only thing he had done in that time was piss me off and make his bed.

Don’t worry though, I asked him why he hadn’t cleaned his room.

“Oh I have just moved to Auckland and I have been really busy at work.”

Mate, you moved here months ago and then there were 40 minutes I had graced you with.

He asked me if I wanted a drink, I said a water because I was driving home tonight. Establishing that you aren’t hanging around after this is all over is great.

We started talking and Max was funny as it turns out. Nervous as hell but funny. I felt like he had Parkinson’s when he tucked the bit of hair out of my face.

So as you can imagine one thing was leading to another when I was sitting on top of him with no shirt on and my phone started to get a call.

I grabbed my phone and it was someone important.

This was warning sign number two.

But yes, you are damn right in thinking I answered it, in my bra, jeans unbuttoned and on top of a boy.

Now before you start thinking “poor Max”, the dude was loving it. As I established why I was being called late at night, Max was all over me like a rash.

At one point I shoved his head down into the pillow, glared at him and kept my hand on his forehead whilst I tried to finish the conversation.

It is just as funny as you can picture.

I did apologize but I can assure you Max was incredibly unbothered. With a half naked girl on top of you its hard to get angry.

So we picked up where we left off. Phone call over. Hand off his forehead.

And then I asked that beautiful question.

“Do you have a condom?”

And mate, you could drop a pin and hear it on his carpeted floor it went that quiet.

“Oh, um, no.”

To which I replied, “you are fucking with me right?”

“I will message my flatmate to see if he has any.”

Now, this was warning sign number three. The universe was trying to tell me to run. And I needed a game plan to get the fuck outta there.

“Can I use your bathroom whilst we wait on a reply?”

So I jumped out of bed, got FULLY dressed, socks and all. Smiled and went to the bathroom.

And I started thinking, quickly. I flushed the toilet I didn’t use, washed my hands because it needed to be a believable performance on my part and walked back into his room.

“I think I have a condom in my car, I left a bag from town in the back seat and that should have one.”

The light in his eyes was blinding. He sat up.

“Really?”

“Yep, I will just have to go and grab it.”

Saying that I pick up my wallet, keys and grab my phone.

Turned on my heels and gapped it for the front door whilst sliding on my flat shoes at speed.

Simple lock. Got it.

I literally ran away from him as he lay there naked.

But then I heard running and shuffling.

Looking back down the hallway he is pulling on pants saying how he will come with me.

I am holding the door open right now with a half-naked man looking at me like a dog about to go on a walk.

“I parked a while away.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Because you could be a psychopath.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“I know but the car is a bit of a walk away so if you want to come you will need shoes and a shirt.”

“Why did you park so far away?”

“Because I did.”

“You aren’t ditching me are you?”

“No, no, I will get my jog on to the car and park closer when I come back, I’ll be like 5 minutes I reckon, just leave the front door unlocked and I will meet you in bed.”

“Okay, see you soon, be careful!”

I smiled and headed out the door, where I got my jog on, carefully of course.

Jumped in my car, I deleted KIC, unmatched him from tinder and deleted the app from my phone and told my best friends that I had a good story for them in the AM.

Unsure if Max’s front door is still unlocked or if he is still waiting for me but he does like to try to add me on Instagram every now and then. After his third attempt to DM me I decided to block him.

Moral of this story is: don’t be like Max, clean your room, have protection and don’t ask dumb questions.

Flatmates from Hell Version 2 – PT 2 They are all older than me.

Picking up from where we left off in part 1, we were in Anna’s room with the electrician. He went straight to the heater and I looked straight at the bag of weed sitting on the mantle place. A clear bag, with bud just sitting there. In the middle of the mantle place. Now the electrition was down looking at the heater but my mind was absolutely spinning. Not only was I dealing with an electrician right now but that thing called a flat inspection had happened just two hours earlier. My brain was racing through the conversation I had with the property inspector and I was trying to remember if anything seemed off. SHE SURE AS HELL SEEN THE WEED. Literally, would have to be blind to miss it.

Side note; I have no problems with people smoking weed. I don’t have a problem that you keep your weed in your room, where else might you keep it?  I do have a problem when you leave an illegal substance out on display for the property inspector to see.

Back to the main story. Now once everyone had left Carrie came home and asked me where her poster was of Will and Kate. I told her I ripped it down and she asked why I said I was angry and then asked her if she had completely forgotten about the fact we had a flat inspection today? She blinked and then said this:

“Yes, I did forget, but it’s not like the house was in that bad of a state.”

So then I had a very stern discussion on that fact that the house was a mess, that I had to cancel my meetings to pick up after her, take the rubbish out and then dropped the bomb that I went into Anna’s room with the electrician after the property inspector had come through only to see a bag of weed sitting on the mantle place.

“I’m sorry that you had to cancel your meetings because the house wasn’t clean enough for you and having weed out is kinda bad but you are not going to lose the lease because of it. It gives you no right to rip down my poster which was a gift from my friend.”

These were the words coming out a 27-year-old people. I apologized for ripping down her poster but then also said how angry would you be if it wasn’t your mess and you have to clean it up despite reminding your flatmates 2 days before the flat inspection and they still don’t clean up after themselves?

She then told me that because she pays rent she should be able to smoke in her room.

Where I seriously questioned if she was being serious or if she was taking the piss. She was being serious. In fact very serious. We then had a conversation where I explained that under no circumstances is anyone allowed to smoke inside. The only person who can is the homeowner. I am explaining to a 27-year old that she cannot smoke inside. I mean how did I end up in this situation?!

So just to make everything very clear because she still wouldn’t accept the fact that she was not allowed to smoke inside I left a message on our group chat.

The image at the top is the screenshot of the conversation.

I thought that would make everything clear.

But no. This would come full circle. But that tale is further down the line.

You might ask yourself what about the other two flatmates Anna and Paul? Well, Anna and her weed kept things relatively quiet for a week or so but Paul couldn’t help himself.

 

Find out the story with Paul in the next part.

Flatmates from Hell Version 2 – PT 1 How dumb can they really be?

Once again I find myself in a crap situation involving flatmates. I guess in school they never teach you how to pick the good ones. The good news is that I have not moved house in over a year, I have taken on a lease by myself and my landlord hasn’t followed the Auckland trend by hiking up the rent every three months. However, the downfall is that I have magically contracted some horrible flatmates. So let me tell you the stories (PLURAL, because they are assholes) of these humans who never stop surprising me how dumb and inconsiderate they are.

When I took on the lease it was because the leaseholder was moving out and I DID NOT WANT TO MOVE AGAIN. We had two rooms to fill and me and the pre-existing flatty (Scott*) did so. He picked a dude he worked with called Paul* and I picked a girl called Rosie*. They moved in and things were just ticking along fine. The house was never full of people because some of us were either working or at our partner’s house. A couple of months rolled by and Scott was now off on an adventure to Asia and we had to fill his room. Being the nice guy he was he said he had already found someone and I was okay with that. SPOILER ALERT IT WAS MY BIG MISTAKE. Her name was Carrie* and she was 27. The first time I met her was the night before she moved in and we sat down and had dinner together, she seemed nice and was working at the same place as Paul. She moved in and things were okay for the first month. Then the cracks started.

Girl likes to smoke pot, which I had no problems with. She would be having a joint every evening when she finished work, it was her ritual. We would chat on the balcony and talk about the day that had just passed. Autumn rolled in and Rosie* decided she would move out which was cool, I held flat viewings and picked another girl called Anna*. She moved in and quickly befriended Carrie because they worked similar hours and both just loved weed. Then things picked up the pace and started to get a little out of control.

It started with Carrie. First, it was the refusal to pay the power bill because it was expensive. Then it was the refusal to take out the rubbish because she had already done it that week.

Three months in and we had a flat inspection on a Monday. A reminder went out on a Friday. I left the house clean on Sunday morning and came home after work at 12.30pm to a full rubbish bin, dirty floors, the house stinking of weed and cigarettes and a completely messy kitchen. Now knowing that I am living with humans who are all older than me by at least two years and that they had been reminded about the flat inspection two days prior I gave them the benefit of the doubt. I walked into the bathroom and nothing had been done, no scrubbing of the mold, no wiping of the sink, the rubbish had not even been taken out. So at 1am, I started to clean, 40 minutes later, angry and covered in bleach. Coming out of the bathroom the hallway smelled like a drug dealers house. Knocked on Carrie’s door and she popped her head out where I proceeded to ask her if she had been smoking in her room, with a flat inspection in the morning. The 27-year-old looked me dead in the eye and said: “We have finished now”. Literally no apology.  I took my shower and crawled into bed.

I woke around 9.30 and wandered out to the kitchen where I stood in the doorway. Nothing had been touched. In fact, things had been added to the rubbish, the pile of dishes. I sigh, start running a sink full of hot water and begin pulling out the rubbish.  I open all the windows in the house and look at the time. This gal had a meeting with my supervisor at 10.30am. I began scrubbing the dishes and began to cry into the sink like some sad housewife. Pretty much running around the house as I took the rubbish out, my sadness turned to anger and I ripped a poster off the wall of William and Kate because no house needs that on their bathroom door.

I cleaned the house but missed my meeting. Got dressed then heard the front door close, watched Anna jump into a car and leave. She was literally in her room the entire time. I went and hid in a cafe absolutely livid and was only two sips when my phone starts ringing. It’s the property inspector explaining how she had left our house key at the office and if I was home. I said no but someone else is, Paul was still sleeping though he had got home before me the night before. I said just knock and he will come to the door. She then politely told me how she had been doing that along with the doorbell for 10 minutes and no one had opened the door. I said I would call her back.

I called Paul.

S:”are you home?”

P: “yeah”

S: “would you get up and let the property inspector in, thanks.”

-HANGS UP-

The property inspector finally gets let in and for the first time since I moved in, I am not there. She lets me know everything seems fine but her tone seems a little weird. I just put it down to it being Monday. But once again, I should have trusted my gut. I then get a call from an electrician asking if I can be home to walk him through the problem we are having with the bathroom light.

I then get a call from an electrician asking if I can be home to walk him through the problem we are having with the bathroom light. One coffee deep I head home, wait for him to turn up and I thought whilst he is here, I will get him to check everyone’s heaters, the hot water cylinder and all the sockets in the house because the power bill was now even more out of control, $450 out of control.

But it was when we walked into Anna’s room with the electrician did I almost throw him back out of the room. It was some sort of sick joke and then I remembered I was living with absolute idiots.

*Names changed.