As it turns out, I have been very lucky with the easygoing nature of my living spaces over the last 9 months. Two friends had strange clauses written into their contracts. The first, at D and J's place, was that the weird flesh coloured crystal that lived on the window sill and plugged into the mains was never to be turned off. Naturally it gets turned off a lot. Quite often on purpose. It is now rather smaller, and seems to be melting. Odd behaviour for a crystal. The other friend, H, had the rather alarming clause "you must not speak to or make contact with the other people living in the house". Nice. Not remotely dodgy. As it turns out, maybe a worth while warning. They are very friendly, but keen purveyors of herbal and chemical remedies.
Last week I was on Oxford Street when I suddenly noticed a crystal in a shop window, exactly the same as the rapidly diminishing one in the Bondi flat. Excitedly, I texted my friend. Here is a record of our somewhat stilted conversation:
B: Just found a shop that sells crystals in case you kill yours!
D: A shop that sells crystals in case I kill mine? What does that mean?!?
B: The odd melty one that keeps getting switched off! Always good to know where to get a replacement just in case! A bit like when a friend asks you to look after their pet...
D: So confused. Are you trying to buy crystal meth?? And what have you been doing to people's pets???
At which point I gave up trying to make any sense and just replied:
B: Yes, thats it! Trying to buy meth but its raining so all the usual suspects are hiding inside.
D: ... Have you tried asking H's flatmates...?
To a normal person I would have thought this quite clearly translated as sarcasm. However, when I saw D on Tuesday at a pub quiz night, he started to ask something and then went quiet. When questioned, he looked shifty and muttered something about not wanting the whole group to hear. I pushed further. Whereupon he announced to my group of friends that he was worried about me and my obvious meth habit. There was a shocked silence. Followed by uproarious laughter. Various flattering comments flew, "shes too fat to be on meth! she still has eyebrows!" Poor sheepish D had honestly spent the whole week worrying that I was hiding a terrible secret. Which, considering we all spent the whole of last weekend together, would have been an impressive feat indeed.
Last week I was on Oxford Street when I suddenly noticed a crystal in a shop window, exactly the same as the rapidly diminishing one in the Bondi flat. Excitedly, I texted my friend. Here is a record of our somewhat stilted conversation:
B: Just found a shop that sells crystals in case you kill yours!
D: A shop that sells crystals in case I kill mine? What does that mean?!?
B: The odd melty one that keeps getting switched off! Always good to know where to get a replacement just in case! A bit like when a friend asks you to look after their pet...
D: So confused. Are you trying to buy crystal meth?? And what have you been doing to people's pets???
At which point I gave up trying to make any sense and just replied:
B: Yes, thats it! Trying to buy meth but its raining so all the usual suspects are hiding inside.
D: ... Have you tried asking H's flatmates...?
To a normal person I would have thought this quite clearly translated as sarcasm. However, when I saw D on Tuesday at a pub quiz night, he started to ask something and then went quiet. When questioned, he looked shifty and muttered something about not wanting the whole group to hear. I pushed further. Whereupon he announced to my group of friends that he was worried about me and my obvious meth habit. There was a shocked silence. Followed by uproarious laughter. Various flattering comments flew, "shes too fat to be on meth! she still has eyebrows!" Poor sheepish D had honestly spent the whole week worrying that I was hiding a terrible secret. Which, considering we all spent the whole of last weekend together, would have been an impressive feat indeed.
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