There was that guy living in my house. Paul. A boy from Liverpool who was trying to D-jay during the night and was sleeping during the day, or he would lie on the couch in the ground floor kitchen-living room, making the kitchen smell of his unwashed clothes. He was always eating cereals and they would get stuck into his brown teeth.
One morning I went into the bathroom. It was early and everybody was asleep. It seems they didn’t have the ability to get up before 10, so I had the big house all for myself.
Well that morning the bathtub and sink were covered in some brown grease, like from a car or something. When I came back at night it was still like this and I was told that Paul had done the mess and was not ready to do the cleaning up.
I waited a couple of days before cleaning the bathroom, using his toothbrush. He was not pleased and called me a bitch.