Guillaume (aka G) and I go all the way back to my first week in Melbourne. We met during my online friend hunting spree (at the gym, of course), instantly hit it off, bonded at a bar over $5 pints and our North American-ness. He is a die hard Quebecan and an all things Canadian enthusiast (hockey and poutine top the list). He told me his name was Guillaume and I instantly nicknamed him G.
Just like me, G had a hell of a time when he first arrived in Melbourne. As I scrubbed away behind a dishwasher at a Lebanese restaurant, G woke up at 4 AM each morning to sweep floors at the local supermarket. We both fell from corporate glory into the world to mindless minimum wage jobs, but lucky for me G was a few months ahead of me. By the time I was struggling through the world of job listing websites and arduous applications, G had already found a job working back in his career. And double lucky for me, G’s career happens to be as a recruiter.
“Just stay persistent and you’ll eventually find something,” resounded in my mind as I was furiously pounding away at the keyboard every afternoon sending off resumes. Thanks to G’s advice and constant encouragement, I eventually found my way back to marketing glory.
Anyway, G’s job history is not what I’m here to talk about. There is a better, more entertaining issue at hand; the eviction.
G, Hannah, Francesco and I liked to hang out at G’s apartment and play cards some afternoons. We would have some snacks, drink some wine and have a rip rollin’ time shelling out accusations of B.S! during our favorite card game, bullshit.
G had a modern apartment close to the city, which he shared with a middle aged Chinese man. This particular roommate happened to be an extremely introverted neat freak. Like, YOU CANT LEAVE A PLATE IN THE SINK obsessive neat freak.
He didn’t strike me as the social type, so we always tried to stay out of his way when we visited. One evening we were playing an exciting game of B.S. and got a bit rowdy…well, as rowdy as four people playing a card game at 6 PM can get. I admit, we were laughing a bit and joking around, but noting out of the ordinary, and we surely weren’t disturbing anyone as it was only 6 PM, or so we thought.
After a few minutes the mysterious roommate emerged from his locked up room at the end of the apartment. He seemed flustered and avoided eye contact, as we looked up from our hands of cards puzzled at the sight of him.
He ignored all three of us and approached G directly, scolding; “I’m studying. Guillaume, you need to get this under control, you know we’re not allowed to have parties here! The neighbors will hear you and report us.”
We exchanged baffled looks, wondering how our so called four person party was so out of hand that it could possibly disturb this man in a closed room at the opposite end of the apartment, let alone neighbors who might report us! Ok, maybe we were a little excited about the game, but how much noise can four people at 6 PM make? Surely not enough to get a noise violation from the neighbors. We decided to take the man’s word as G apologized and vowed to be quiet.
We contined the game making a conscience effort to keep the tone down. This time, we were sure the roommate or neighbors would not be able to hear a peep!
The game B.S. is based on lying about the cards you have in order to win. If you’ve ever played, you know how funny it can be trying to guess who’s honest and who’s bluffing. As quiet as we were trying to be, there was one particular lie by Francesco that was too comical and caused us to burst into laughter simultaneously. No sooner than we had finished raving about his comedic move, the party-crasher roommate emerged.
This time, the scolding was intense. He distinctly reiterated his previous accusation and repeatedly pointed his finger at G as if he were a disobedient child. I had to turn away to stop myself from bursting into laughter at the ridiculous scene.
We exchanged giggles at how outrageous the encounter was, knowing that our laughter and noise level was nothing out of the ordinary for a Sunday evening. “Maybe he was just having a bad day,” we thought as we packed up the card game and departed the apartment.
The next morning, I received an email in my inbox:
Believe or not, I have been evicted from my place for having 3 people over playing cards, and need to move out in a week. It took me 90 minutes to explain to my roommate that hanging out with friends is something normal people do once in a while. So, needless to say, I’m looking for a new place if anyone knows of anything!
We all replied dumbfounded. A warning could have been suitable, but eviction? You’ve got to be kidding! This man is out of his mind!
Anyway, it all worked out for the better. G moved out, got a new apartment, and we now lounge around on his balcony overlooking the city screaming out B.S.! at the top of our lungs in memory of his once crazy roommate!