I know there have been some less-positive confessions lately, so here’s something slightly more wholesome. Slightly.
It’s around 2am and most of our flat’s in bed, save for two (let’s call them Nikki and Molly, not using real names). The door of the flat opens, and Nikki and Molly come stumbling in, giggling and whispering to each other. I’m lying in my bed, silently praying to whoever’s out there in hopes they’ll shut up before 3am. I was dead wrong.
There was a brief moment of silence as they disappeared into Molly’s bedroom, the calm before the storm that was the opening music of the 1988 Beetlejuice movie blaring through our once quiet flat. At this point I can hear the flatmate in the room next to mine (let’s call him Josh) wake up too.
Something had changed during the movie. Nikki and Molly were no longer squealing and giggling. I don’t know if it was the allure of Micheal Keaton’s green wig and grey makeup, or maybe they’d looked into each other's eyes in the soft glow of the TV and something finally clicked. But whatever it was, they were REALLY going at it. I did not want or need to know that Nikki is a power bottom, but the universe had other plans.
I’m desperately searching around for my crappy warehouse headphones to try to drown this all out when I hear some weird grunts from the room next to mine. Josh had apparently been awake for the entire thing too, but did not share my annoyance of hearing the other two banging. In fact, not even the sounds of the Beetlejuice movie were enough to distract Josh from the five-knuckle shuffle. To my further horror, I had left my headphones in the living room. I was stuck there. Molly and Nikki going at it like animals in the room across from me, Josh manhandling his ham candle in the room next to mine, and the banana boat song blaring all along.
Josh was viciously mocked by yours truly the morning after, and Molly and Nikki started officially dating a few days later. I’d say “everyone lived happily ever after”, but Josh is still pissed off at me.