Irritating flatmate and I: A dialogue

ME: "Have you seen the coffee plunger? I could swear it was here this morning."

IRRITATING FLATMATE: "It's in the dishwasher."

Side note: Our dishwasher has been broken for several months now. We all do our own dishes by hand. At least, that's what we *thought* we were all doing.

(Pregnant pause ensues)

ME: "Um...why?"

IRRITATING FLATMATE: "Um... (sarcastic face-pulling... or perhaps his face is just like that) so it will get clean."

ME: "You *know* the dishwasher's broken, right?"

IRRITATING FLATMATE: "Works fine for me."

ME: "FUUUUUUUU-----"


PROLOGUE

The dishwasher did not clean any of Irritating Flatmate's dishes properly. They came out crusty and curry-caked, likely owing to the fact that he had left them on the bench for three days prior without soaking them, rather than the fact that the dishwasher actually IS broken.

To this day he swears they are "clean enough for him".

The rest of us lovely, consensus-abiding flatmates sat down and laughed about how Irritating Flatmate never got over not living with his mother. After we had cleaned up after him, of course. Just like his mother would have done.

PS: He just left town for ten days. He left the dishwasher full of dirty dishes.

PSS: His mother pays his rent. He's 28. Yes, you read right.