When choosing a student housemate, be careful and make sure you do your homework better than we did!
Three days after signing for a student house, one of my so-called friends announced he was skint and wanted to stay in halls. Thanks a bunch! To restore the female-male ratio the rest of us advertised for a male flatmate, secretly hoping to find some eye candy walking round in a towel. Sadly the applicants were not exactly David Beckham or Brad Pitt: we had a nosepicker, a deaf metal fan and a bloke who crossly insisted his surname, Pervi, was pronounced "Par-vee". So when Malcolm, a Sociology PhD student turned up he seemed quite normal if unfanciable, and we welcomed him into the househouse.
Malcolm moved into the house over the summer and when we arrived in September we discovered he had stolen somebody else's bedroom and wouldn't budge from it. He'd also bagged the largest food cupboard, which was fair enough - although why he felt he needed three shelves for a six-pack of Tesco value beans, loaf of bread, jam and orange squash was a mystery to us. Still, we wanted to get along and listened with sympathy when he told us his last housemates had stopped talking to him after the first month.
A week later and we understood why. He was impossible to hold a conversation with. Anything you said met with a gormless expression and the word "cool" by way of reply. It wasn't as if he was listening either - my best mate didn't consider it "cool" that when she was waiting for the bus, a dog p***ed up her leg!
But the "coolest" thing about Malcolm - as far as he was concerned anyway - was his musical efforts. Hearing strange whale noises and pan pipe music seeping through from under his door, we asking him and discovered he was "working on an ambient symphony".
Another problem with Malcolm was his clothes - or rather lack of them. He always walked around the house in his boxers and this wasn't a pretty site. The worrying thing was that these boxers never seemed to change?.unless he had lots of the same one? We can only hope!
Astonishingly, Malcolm managed to get a girlfriend, and I hope he wore clean boxers for her! She was a first year music student. They regularly used to spend evenings in the kitchen, as this was our only communal area and romantically feasting of baked beans and toasting their love with weak orange squash. They would then go to his room and "make music" before "making ambient love"!
Luckily for all of us, Malcolm won a scholarship to study in America in the spring. The day he left, we celebrated by turning his bedroom into a living room and holding a huge party. He forgot a pair of boxers, we picked them up with sticks and burnt them, I hope Malcolm had a spare pair!