There are five people living in my flat and every so often one of them moves out. When this happens the great flat mate search beings where we hunt London for the person to make our flat whole again.
This involves a bizarre speed dating night where around 12 people come by our specially cleaned flat and sit with us for 15 minutes as we terrify them. These people are selected from a large group of applicants based largely on whether I know what their job is or not and the movie they say they would show for a flat movie night. If they say a Vince Vaughn movie they are automatically ruled out. If they say Mrs Doubtfire, a weird art-house movie or Game of Thrones (even though it’s not a movie) they are automatically in.
Things start our nice and calm and normal as we introduce ourselves and ask questions about them. By about person 6 we have lost our minds and are generally just talking amongst ourselves and swapping jobs when they ask. It’s a fun wild night that leaves you exhausted and normally results in a new person who thinks we are crazy in all the right ways moving into our little world.
This time we are about to do our third night of viewings, it usually only takes one. Night one ended with us hating everyone. Night two ended with us wanting to live with two people who didn’t want to live with us and another couple that were a maybe. Maybe isn’t really good enough when you are inviting them into your home based on a hurried 15 minute conversation full of polite conversation and delirious in jokes.
So for the first time int he history of the house we are about to do night three. I normally get quite excited for these nights, im not so much for this time round. The blame for the need of three nights can be placed on a girl I’m going to refer to as Sami. She came into our lives like a loud whirlpool of energy and broke us.
Because we are trying to be good hosts we provided a few snacks for the guests. Some crisps, dips and a few mini eggs, it is nearly easter after all.
This selection confused Sami.
Upon seeing the dips she asked what they were. We told her they were dips for dipping things in. She picks up a chocolate egg and looking concerned goes to dip it in the dip. We go to say no, don’t do it. She said ok, but I kinda want to. We say go for it.
She does it.
It tastes terrible.
We loose our minds.
Whoever came after that was just a blur really, we spend the rest of Sami’s 15 minutes barely holding it together as she instantly became the ‘Egg Dip Girl’ who also couldn’t remember how many Tinder dates she goes on. She will forever be in our hearts and minds completely unforgettable, but in no way someone you wanted to live with.
Everyone from the first night couldn’t complete with her impact, the people on night two just seemed dull by comparison. Sami wanted the room and a small part of us wanted to say yes just to see what would happen. It would be disastrous, hilarious, but disasterous. We would hate her, she would keep us awake, we would regret our decision, but we will forever be curious as to how quickly she would burn the flat to the ground.
I feel this is the same thinking that got Trump elected. Fortunately we were wiser in this instance, but just think of what could have been.