Life in the flat

My flatmates' sense of humor is one of a kind. It is fascinating, it makes you ask: why? why? why? After some time, it makes you adapt, and really, it's fun.

First off, I have three flatmates, all of them at the height of their adoloscent life. One of them is an overstaying undergraduate, in his mid-20s, but he is nevertheless at the height of his adoloscent life.

The big one, Sergio, has recently been showing increased levels of alcohol consumption. When he drinks, he turns into a dangerous bear. He works up a conversation with you by producing incoherent sounds similar to that of a roar. Later, once whisky and Coke are sufficiently present in his blood, he demonstrates his propensity to walk on four feet on the floor.

If you come to my flat, you will notice a hole on the toilet door. It could pass for a glory hole, except that it's located way above the waist, near the level of your nipples, so it's not worth the effort.

That glory hole is the mark of Sergio's skull. Two nights ago, he ditched the bear image and transformed into a bull. Drunk, he ran inside the flat screaming chants and launched headfirst into the wooden door, like a Spanish bull aiming for the red cloth, or rather, the white door.

It's not good to mix whisky with Coke. Aside from the fact that it tastes like Coke, it awakens your self-destructive side.

To continue, the bull climbed out of the window, with only a thin piece of metal under his feet and a pair of sweaty hands to make him stick to the building wall like Spiderman. He was trying to cross over to the window of the next flat.

I almost admired the bull for such an idea, except that our flat is on the third floor and a vast expanse of deadly pebbles is waiting at the bottom, in case Spiderman loses his grip. My two adolescent flatmates got nervous, rattled out incoherent pleas, and then they pulled the unwilling superhero back into safety.

Apparently, Spiderman got frustrated by his failed acrobatic attempt, so once inside the flat he just jumped from the top of the staircase down to his room. He was not injured.

The next morning, when he was temporarily out of powers to transform, I pointed to the bull the mark on the toilet door. He said he would pay for it, or fix it, or something to that effect. Hmmm...this is sad, hehehe. I must say goodbye to the glory hole.