Basically this guy moved into my flat about 6 months ago, first as someone another flatmate found on Gumtree to fill his room for a couple weeks while he went away. He decided to stay on, and moved into one of the rooms, immediately starting fights with the agency we all pay rent to, basically every phone conversation I overheard between him and them ended with “this is fookin' England mate and in this country you can't fookin' do that to people you'll get your money when you get it know wot I mean!?” Also during this time his younger brother was living with us, and they fought like brothers do. One day me and my housemate Rosie came home to a cop car waiting outside, and random shit strewn everywhere. The door kicked in and the lock broken. The brothers had had a fight, and we never saw the younger one again.
After that Andy just kept living really... that lasted about three months, in which time he quit whatever job he had (details were VERY light on that one), broke his arm and went on the dole, and lived with his only income other than benefits being from semen donations to a local sperm bank. He also used to tell me he'd get money from banks and phone companies by just calling them up and complaining and yelling at enough people and telling them he'd been on the phone for hours and hours, until they just credited him some money to make him go away. Oh, and he has lines of credit running with half a dozen local businesses – off licenses, chicken shops, and a couple bars.
So one week he's telling us all week he's going down to the property agency to “sort them out”, and I'm thinking he's finally going to be kicked out, which I'm half relieved about, but also a little bit down on, because as stressful as it is, I really do enjoy having someone around who is such a chaotic force of nonsense. Seriously. Absolute fucking nonsense.
Anyway, he comes home with a huge grin plastered over his face, and tells us he's got a job with the agency. The boss loved him, and they seem to have this weird father-son, protegé relationship going on. In the 3-4 months since that happened, everyone who used to live in the house has moved out: my friends Rosie and Leroy left because the place was seriously fucking disgusting around that time, the sink didn't work for about 2 months, and the kitchen would flood whenever you used the washing machine. There was never any gas or electricity, and Andy never liked Rosie so was starting to threaten her with stories about when he was going to have her evicted. As much as I'm drawn to the chaos that he brings into my life, he is a fundamentally sad, and mean person. Mean in his heart, and sad to witness and contemplate.
The fifth housemate, Romy, he kicked out of the flat, trashed her room, put her stuff into storage, and then changed the locks and waited for her to come home before telling her she couldn't come in and she had to find somewhere else to go. She didn't pay her rent and kept lying and saying she would, and to be honest I fucking hated her too. But no one deserves that. I guess that's what happens when two impossibly unpleasant people clash heads, one of those skulls is going to break.
So anyway, that's where I'm at now, Andy has brought new people in to fill the three empty rooms: Yanic from Portugal who is studying music at some local college. Matt is English, probably in his thirties, and just broke up with his girlfriend of six years – he wears a lot of black. And two Italians, brother and sister, the sister's name is Sara, and the brother I don't know, his English isn't great, but he smokes weed and seems pretty cool. Andy tells me they all think he owns the place, so I'm the only one who knows the full extent of the situation here, and he tells me I'm in “a pretty good position” while smiling at me like a serial killer. I always turn down his offers of cocaine.
Look forward to more updates guys. Hopefully this is just the beginning.
Welcome to The Abersham Flat.
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