People who know me longer than 5 minutes can confirm: I am not a very tidy person. Have you ever met someone with a special talent of entering a place, opening their purse for a second on the search for, let’s say, tissues, and suddenly it looks like a hurricane has just passed? That’s me. You can see it on my desk, in my office, in my room – but of course, it’s all organized chaos. However, that’s not the point yet.
I claim there is a fine, dusty line between being untidy and being a little bit disgusting. If you don’t agree, you probably have never visited a single guy’s apartment with open eyes (no judging here). Actually, the guy in question doesn’t even need to be single, the only condition that allows for a proper state of yuckyness is probably that he lives without female supervision. And no way you know better, few exceptions just prove the rule!
The few or sometimes several years which, after having left the well-cleaned parental shelter, a guy spends all by himself (or, even worse: with his guy friends) in a den that was formerly known as an apartment seem to close eyes and noses for dirt. There’s chaos – and then there is dirt. If you still disagree, let’s have a virtual tour around a maybe fictional but definitely representative apartment of an average guy.
The first stop is the bathroom. I have literally never seen a bathroom with a clean toilet in a guys’ apartment. It is as if they think the brown and yellow layers on the bottom of the toilet bowl came straight from the factory. A public toilet usually is as clean as a whistle compared to this stuff! I mean, in a way, I understand – I also wouldn’t wanna touch anything I regularly pee all over and around, especially not to clean it thoroughly. But hey, maybe there’s a solution to it all?
Generously skimming over leftover beard-stubbles from the last shave this morning, or maybe yesterday, or probably two weeks ago, we can leave the sink and “mirror” (I think it should actually only deserve the word mirror if it is still able to reflect anything) in the bathroom and move on to the kitchen. Do you know these horror-stories on the internet about how contaminated your kitchen probably is with bacteria, even if it looks perfectly clean? The sponge, the rug, the sink – you may not wanna leave anything you’re still planning to eat lying around there.
Well, the kitchen in our textbook-single-guy’s apartment has no hidden bacteria. They don’t even bother hiding since a long time. They sit there on their chubby bacteria asses in the sink, laughing sneeringly in your face. If you accidentally drop something edible, it will probably dissolve in a heartbeat. Not completely, though – the faint smell of something rotting in the pipes, tried to be covered by a desperate attempt of constantly leaving the kitchen windows open, no matter if summer or winter, makes you feel slightly nauseous. However, the thought of throwing up disappears from your mind as soon as it popped up – do you really wanna hang over this afore mentioned toilet bowl, like, with your face?
Preparing something in the oven is a no-go – the thing that exploded in there earlier this century defends its territory successfully. You don’t wanna provoke it with a pie, or a meatloaf. You could, if you really want to use these facilities for preparing something crazy like food, eventually use the stove. That is, if you find a pot that is still cleanable. No, please don’t do it with the brush that is currently having a party with the food-leftovers and their bacteria-buddies in the sink (btw, buying a new brush does not lead to much. It will magically always end up in this party-place). And anyways, what would you even want to prepare? Something from the fridge? No, don’t open tha-
Now there you go. Even the open windows can no longer help us now. I wonder what happens if our maybe fictional guy wants to move out of this apartment ever. Probably it needs to be burnt down and rebuilt.
Eventual similarities with places of friends of mine, my male flatmate(s), my ex-boyfriend or anyone who feels alluded to are totally intended. If you are interested in a real show, send an inquiry for names and addresses. If you wonder whether I made anything of this up: No.