Every Day's a Struggle When You're Flat Captain

I'm beginning to understand why my mother felt the need to strike the fear of God in me in order to make me do my chores. Ever since I was granted the venerable role of Flat Captain, I've come to appreciate parents everywhere that don't resort to violence when their shit-head children disobey them. Okay, so my fellow residents aren't my children, but if I don't keep on their asses about keeping the kitchen clean, the flat will get fined, and that noise ain't goin' down.

I've held two meetings so far, each one focusing more or less on the same thing: Keep the kitchen clean so we don't get fined. Both meetings have been made in vein because the pile of dishes is growing into a small city of glass and ceramics - dirty glass and ceramics. For the life of me, I can't understand why these idiots don't wash their own dishes after they've finished stuffing their faces full of the food they just slopped all over the place. I'm pretty sure they all speak fluent English, but maybe others only understand moronese. I'll try and speak like a caveman or a gorilla the next time I hold a meeting.

My initial reaction to the dozens of dishes piling up on the counter was one of irrational violence. I imagined myself standing by the sink waiting for someone to not wash a dish after using it, and then striking a pressure point in their collar bone, rendering them partially paralyzed. Before the culprit's body repaired all of it's nerve damage, I'd have already duck-taped said culprit to the wall outside the kitchen door as a warning.

This is where I begin to appreciate the effort parents put in to raising their children without throwing them out of a window. It's frustrating enough to keep up with a bunch of young adults, never mind having to do it with a bunch of small children.

Before I went out to buy duct-tape and sign up for ninja classes, the rational side of my brain spoke up and convinced me to leave a stern note on top of the dishes instead. It read...

Dear Faraday Residents,

I've noticed that the pile of dishes has grown into a god-damned castle and I cannot ignore it. You are not infants, so wash your dishes EVERY. TIME. YOU. USE. THEM. I'm keeping an eye out and if I notice you left a dish dirty, I will find you and punch you in the throat.

Love,

Sam

Minutes after taping this to the highest tower on the scummiest plate of dish city, I became wary of what consequences awaited me if the cleaning ladies read it. I'm not sure what the punishment is for threatening to end someone's life via cobra-strike to the jugular, but I can't imagine it's soft. I went to my friend, Trish, and asked her opinion. Not surprisingly, she said it was good up until the throat punchy part. Damn. My fears were confirmed and now I had to think of a new note to leave.

Maybe it would go something like this,

CLEAN YOUR DISHES OR THE BRITISH POOP DEMON WILL EAT YOUUUUU!

LIKE THIIIIIIS!!!!!

But then I realized that NO one would believe something as outrageous as that. Although sometimes when I walk into my room after being away from it for a few hours, it sure SMELLS like the poop demon is very real and a force to be reckoned with. Thank God we got fabreeze.

Buh, I spent so much time creating a poop demon that I've grown tired of ruling my flat mate's lives with fear and intimidation. I think I'll just perch myself in the kitchen until August like a vulture so everyone knows I'm watching them. I wonder if they sell fake feathers at Tesco...

In other news I used the word "cheers" in actual conversation with a British person! YAY! I'M PRACTICALLY A NATIVE. Tomorrow I'll go apply to be knighted, I haven't written an application essay in a while but I bet it's just like riding a bike! YEUUUUHHHH KNIGHTHOOOD WHUSSUP, QUEEN?

Can you be American and be a knight? If no, then I'll just tell them that people cross over cultures all the time! I'm not Jewish but that doesn't stop me from loving the crap out of Passover! Seriously, Jewish cuisine is DUH-LISH-USS.

.... I never thought I'd start out a post with poop demons and end up at Passover. Oh the things we can think.

We're on break after a crazed, zombie inducing week of finals and most of my friends abandoned me to go to Spain for the next three days so expect more inane posts like this for the duration of that time span.

LAHVE,

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