Sunday, May 22, 2011

The Elephant in the Room

I’m going to be honest with you, dear Reader, because I care about our friendship and wouldn’t want you to think I was trying to deceive you. When I started writing this article it was initially titled Cruel and Unusual Punishment and it was going to be about how I thought pouring balsamic vinegar onto people’s mess would be a good way to passively aggressively teach them a lesson. You can probably see already why I decided to change the subject.

“But Tom,” you will tell me, “How much of a total weirdo are you that you would even consider doing such a thing?” Now that’s a fair question to raise and one well worth asking, so I’ll try and explain.

Living out of home is in a lot of ways similar to living with Hepatitis C. You run the risk of developing slow-melted internal organs, which can be an awful inconvenience at times. For starters, you have to do things for yourself, which is downright weird. If you’re out of clean clothes, you’ll have to wash them eventually. If you run out of food, you’ll unfortunately have to go and buy some more. You’ll have to mow your own lawn, pay your own bills and make your own lists of ‘threes’. Which is hard.

However the most challenging new experience drawn from living out of home is the housemates. Parents and siblings can be a pain in the arse; sure, everyone knows that except for people who get along with their families constantly. (Happy nuclear families, eww.)

But when you move out and find yourself in brand new surrounds with friends, co-workers, university chums, total strangers (oh dear God), what-have-you, you’re in for a surprise or two. Unless you’re tremendously lucky you’ll suddenly find yourself surrounded by people who, as unbelievable as it seems, don’t like all of the same shit you do. Crazy, I know, it’s weird that no one is as totally fucking awesome as you are, but it happens. So called ‘normal’ people might try and ‘resolve’ their ‘differences’ with ‘diplomacy’ or ‘mutual respect’. Hah! Armistice is for the weak! War is Peace, Freedom is Slavery, etc. You’ll have to quickly abandon any weak-minded ideology should you hope for any chance of surviving with your sanity intact.

Allow me to paint you a word picture; you finally get to go home from work/school/your mistress’s house after a long and tiresome day of working/pretending to learn/general skuzzy behaviour. All you really want to do is fall down and wallow in your own self-pity, maybe have a beer in the process. After all, you’ve earned it. You waddle through the front door, your eyes staring down half a metre in front of you because you’re too tired to lift your head up any higher. You make your way to the lounge room/dining room/kitchen/stable and kick off your tattered old boots. (“Good work, boots”) You then, with a gigantic sigh, lift your head.

There’s an elephant in the room. 

Not one of those bullshit metaphorical socially awkward elephants. A legitimate elephant. Well, not a whole one. Most of one. Just the off-cuts; legs, ears, some of the trunk, what looks like maybe some rump steak. There’s a note alongside of the offcuts;

Hey [insert your name here],

I picked up this mangled elephant carcass up at the markets. Well, it was more of a roadside than a market, but who’s counting? Figured we could make a few meals out of it.

Love from Housemate   xoxo

PS: I didn’t want to pass up on such a great opportunity for prime elephant steak and didn’t have any cash on me, so I borrowed your wallet, I’ll pay you back though, promise.

PPS: Had some trouble finding a bag big enough for aforementioned elephant, so I used your priceless antique Persian rug as a makeshift wrapper. You know the one that’s been in your family since before the Crusades? Yeah, that one. Figured you’d be cool with it, since you’re such a nice person and all.

Tasty carcass

 Or maybe;

Dearest [insert your name here],

The guys and I needed some quick cash for our university beer pong tourney so we sold one of your kidneys on the black market.

Figured you’d be all right without the spare.

Love from Housemate   xoxo

Perhaps even;

My good fellow,

While experimenting with quantum mechanics this afternoon I accidently opened up a wormhole into a universe populated by doppelgängers of ourselves with grotesque haircuts in our freezer, the likes of which would send a man mad simply by gazing upon them.

So, yeah, don’t open the freezer until I get home.

Love from Housemate   xoxo

PS: We’re out of milk, could you grab some more on your way home from work? Thank you my good chum.

And now we come full circle. We are where we were originally intended to be. See how smoothly those textual pieces fell into place there? So here we are. The start. Well, the intended start that now doesn’t actually make any sense without what you have just read up yonder. But now the problem is we’re stuck with a start with no end. The whole thing has become a preface to itself without anything to preface and now I’m slightly concerned about paradoxes again, which, if you’re a devout reader, you’ll know is a serious problem for me. So, hopefully that summarises in a straightforward and easily comprehensible manner the conditions that could cause a person to come to the conclusion that pouring balsamic vinegar onto peoples' belongings would be a good idea for a method of passive aggressive punishment…

Now we’re just stuck with one of those awkward moments where we sit across the table from one another without really knowing what to say and I kind of have to trail off and pretend that I wasn’t actually saying anything…

- Tom


Soph said...

Gotta love the notes between housemates. Once it's in writing you're no longer responsible. Heh heh.

Erinn said...

dude, picture with the carcass in your kitchen = absolutely epic.

Kayla >.> said...


Anonymous said...

I still maintain dumping your housemates crap out on the front lawn is the best solution. Total and utter humiliation for them when they go to sort through their shit.

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