It was a nice quiet day, with all of us settled in our rooms (90% we were all curled up on our beds reading or watching something) when we heard a huge clatter in the hall (and we sprang from our beds to see what was the matter). We were out just long enough to see someone haughtily push open the door the the spare room, drag in a small suitcase, and dramatically slam the door.
Apparently our fourth flatmate had arrived. Or, at least, we hoped it was our new flatmate, and not just a random stranger who had somehow gotten into the building and chosen our apartment as their new abode.
She re-emerged a few minutes later.
“Which one of you used my toilet and didn’t flush?” she demanded.
And that, my friends, is the story of how we met our new flatmate.
She disappeared again, and left the three of us standing in the hall, traumatized.
“That was rude,” Ann observed. We agreed, but you can’t exactly mandate good manners, so, since she was quiet, we all returned to our respective rooms and picked up where we had left off.
Little did we know, this was the beginning of a rather…interesting…experience. I was not present for her next appearance, so the following is purely based on hear-say, but I’d say the hear is fairly accurate.
Apparently the newbie (who, as she has a very close variation of Cait’s name, I will not be referring to by her name, but rather simply as “Newbie”) was a sorority girl from Arizona State (hint: party school) who was purely in Ireland because her parents were loaded and she wanted to get credit for partying. And where else, but the land of Guinness and Beamish? Her intentions were to party it up as much as possible. Oh, also, she announced she would not be taking the trash out (ever) because “that’s just gross.” We later found out that her sorority house has a maid and her parents are rich enough that she can afford not to take out the trash.
Now, we enjoy a good party as well as the next person, but the three of us had discovered we were all quite content with our quiet, homey life, were we rarely ventured out unless we had a mission to accomplish. Not exactly a good match for someone who intends to party regularly.
I showed up just at the end of this interaction (in time for the trash proclamation), only to be shouldered aside as the Newbie went back to her room. The rest of us shared some words about her and began wondering if we should create a paper trail in the event that we needed to appeal to the landlord to kick her out. Then Cait dropped a new bombshell.
“You know, she lost all her luggage on the way over here.”
“She was asking if she could borrow my straightener, but I don’t feel comfortable sharing that stuff. I feel bad she lost all of her stuff, though.”
Is there no more room for righteous indignation? Please. We were having a moment collectively hating on the Newbie. Now we have to go feel all bad that she lost her things.
Sighing internally, I retired to my room to message Jo, who I knew kept a repository of things for international students to borrow as needed. The next day I went by to pick them up, then left them outside the Newbie’s room when no one answered. We consulted over this and determined she was most likely making good on her threat to party it up, as none of us had seen her since the late afternoon, and she did not answer our knocks to invite her to dinner with us.
She was still the topic on our minds over dinner, as in just a couple days all three of us would be leaving on trips: Cait and I would be heading to Galway for the weekend, while Ann would be going to a music festival in another town. We decided to move any and all alcohol we had purchased into Cait’s room (since, well, so far, Cait had purchased 90% of it) and lock our doors. None of us were going to be sad to leave, even after we found out she had “just been sleeping” and had not gone out. If she stayed that quiet, we would leave well enough alone. If not, well…
I might be wishing for my pot-smoking Irish flatmate to re-appear.