The Square Life

How to deal with a mess you can't clean up.

Why in the name of Zeus did someone think it was okay to throw a greezy, smelly jacket in with my clean clothes tumbling in the dryer, thus imparting said smelly greezyness to my previously clean clothing?” These were my thoughts upon discovering this travesty mere days after I moved into my new place. Followed by, “This is going to be a long four months.” This was only the beginning of one long, continuous stream of filthiness. What does one do when continually assaulted by an inconsiderate, mess-loving roommate, one who seems to absolutely thrive upon living in the most squalid circumstances known to man? Unfortunately, there isn’t a quick, easy answer. I, like a lot of people, have a slight phobia of confrontation on certain levels, especially if previous similar confrontations have proven fruitless. Rather than actually sit down with the person and say in the nicest way possible, “Hey.  You are an utter slob.  Please stop before our house is overrun by creatures and bacteria,” I had to take more drastic/cowardly measures.
   “Please wash your dishes. There is no mythical, subservient, dish washing gnome that will do it for you. Let us pretend that girls constantly visit here and that rotting filth in the sink would be an utter embarrassment.”  This was the first of many notes that would adorn the kitchen walls and various other areas of the house. Let’s call my slob the “Destroyer.” I think just about everyone has had their own personal experience living with a Destroyer. It is difficult because they generally do not think like a logical human being where cleanliness is concerned. The whole concept of, “cleanliness is next to godliness” seems to escape them. This is especially frequent and noticeable in the kitchen. The Destroyer absolutely hated doing dishes. Mixed with an overall lazy nature, this made for some horrifying culinary experiences.
   If actual full-on confrontation scares you and notes aren’t working, sometimes subtle suggestions will do the trick. The first time I needed to do laundry, I learned the hard way that the Destroyer didn’t wash his clothing with detergent. He would simply stew his clothing in hot water, as though that provided any cleansing whatsoever. Needing to wash some clothing (with detergent), I foolishly assumed that the clothes in the washer had been...washed. I plucked out a pair of shorts and tossed them into the dryer above. As said article whooshed (they were kind of whooshy shorts) past my face, I felt like I had just been punched in the nose by a rancid ham. If a rotting corpse could run fifteen miles, peel off his sweat soaked vestments, and then toss them in a churning cauldron of sewage, the smell which assaulted my nostrils might be duplicated. I dared not leave this up to a note to cure.
   There had been some detergent left by a previous tenant.  Later that day when I saw the Destroyer, I said, “Hey man.  You know, this detergent was left by Bill.  I’ve already got my own, so you know…you could…um…use it…(gulp)…if you want.” It worked. He used it. No detergent left by a previous tenant? Then buy some. Whatever it takes. Subtle hinting really can work in situations like that.
   The truth be told, probably the absolute best thing one can do is cowboy up and really just talk to them about it.  I never had the courage to do that, so I went about it in a more subtle (or not so subtle) non confrontational manner. I really think that had I simply had the guts to really talk to him about it, the problem could have been better solved. If that is impossible for you, I suggest notes and subtle prodding. Anything beats living in a house that smells like the residents collect dead animals, even if that means living with a little awkward tension.