We asked our readers to provide their worst flatsharing stories, for a chance to win a month's rent. Check out Story #8 here – and see below for details on how to vote!
"It was a Friday evening, and my flatmate was having some friends over for a few drinks – he was an aspiring tattoo artist and had just bought a tattoo machine.
"I had a beer with them but left to stay with my girlfriend that weekend, before returning on Sunday around 11am and finding that the door to the flat was open.
The curtains were drawn and the only light was from a red bulb duct taped to the wall
"I walked in and immediately noticed the smell of weed and stale booze... but there was another smell. What was it?
"I looked at the floor and saw a trail of shit stamped into the carpet. I followed the stinky trail and saw a man sitting on the couch with no shoes on, rolling a joint. He looked like a bad Bill Bailey impersonator.
"The curtains were drawn and the only light was from a red bulb duct taped to the wall. I said hello to the guy on the couch but he didn't notice.
"At that moment a friend came stumbling in, all panicked, saying that he couldn't find his cat. He had no shoes on either. I don't know why his cat had been there but it explained the shit trail.
"So I went downstairs, and the carpet was drenched. This was a weird flat that had a pump to stop the basement from flooding with sewage – and someone had, inexplicably, turned it off. It also turned out that everyone had gotten their feet tattooed with smiley faces and misspelt words.
"I decided it was best to leave."
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