The House of Flying Shaggers

I wake up late one night. I decide to pee. And find, at the washbasins next to the toilets, a bald man, with intense acne, staring at his reflection in the mirror and slowly stroking his head.

Why did I wake up randomly, you ask?

Because the guy in the next bed farted. Loud and long. And for the benefit of the deaf, his gaseousness smelled like the depths of hell. That is why I got up.

Many days later, I wake up to find a man who looks exactly like a dhobi sticking his hand out at my face. I was, understandably, confused by this. Dhobi dudes, in my experience, usually take clothes, count them, tie them in a bundle and leave. They do not attempt to shake your hand. But I'm a polite guy, so I shook his hand, and he introduced himself as…well I promptly forgot what, and said he was a new occupant of the house. When my friend Benjamin awoke, he asked me why the dhobi was sitting on the beds and watching TV. I swear I did not colour his judgment in any way. The man just looks like a dhobi.

Of course, dhobi dude isn’t a patch on G. B. This man is more like a mountain, a sumo wrestler in an old banian and loose shorts. Every night, he watches a serial called Balika Vadhu, while drinking Signature. More disturbingly, he weeps silently while watching the show, which at times involves a pansy man playing a flute while his wife looks on and sniffles.

If that wasn’t disturbing enough, the landlady recently threw out two upstanding young men from the house. She accused them of bringing women into the house at 2:00 a.m. and spoiling the good name of the house. They were understandably upset, seeing as the landlady’s son was most probably the one who committed this heinous act. To add insult to throwing-out-on-the-ear, she accused them of bringing the bedbugs into the house. How, you ask? Because R was consuming a rather nice bottle of red wine, which, according to our learned Landlady, caused him to smell. And his vile smell was attracting the bugs. This reasoning is yet to be understood by anyone.

My life, ladies and gentlemen, is a cartoon.