Fridge Antics

Loud Sex Housemate isn't as smart as he first appears.

For example, he loves putting bananas in the fridge, because he always forgets that putting bananas in the fridge makes them go BLACK. He loves putting everything in the fridge, actually. Like tomato sauce. And bread. And stale biscuits.

In fact, me and my other housemate were getting so annoyed by finding stinky bananas in the fridge every week that one day my housemate just threw them out straight away.

Other Housemate: Fuck it, these are going in the bin
Karen: But what happens when Loud Sex Housemate comes home? What are we going to tell him?
Other Housemate: Meh. He'll probably just forget anyway.

So Loud Sex Housemate comes home the next day in the mood for bananas. He opens the fridge door and BAM! they're gone. Other Housemate comes home (we shall now call him Banana Grabber) and Loud Sex Housemate is rifling through the fridge, angry that he can't find his rotting bananas.

From what I can gather, the convo went like this:

Loud Sex Housemate: Hey Banana Grabber, have you seen my bananas? I put four (note: there were actually only three) bananas in the fridge yesterday and now they're gone
Banana Grabber: No I haven't seen them
Loud Sex Housemate: How could they have just dissapeared? I'm going to leave a note for Karen.
Banana Grabber: Oh - oh... maybe I ate them....
Loud Sex Housemate: Maybe you ate them?
Banana Grabber: Yeah, maybe I ate them. I can't remember...
Loud Sex Housemate: You can't remember...?

Anyway, Loud Sex Housemate left a note for me anyway, and now there is this vicious circle in our house where everytime food goes missing we just accuse the other person who isn't there. Luckily I'm usually always there so it's always Banana Grabber or Loud Sex Housemate who gets the blame.

But that's only half the story.

Yesterday Loud Sex Housemate went on holidays for 2 weeks, which meant an opportunity to clean out our stinky, stinky, stench of rotting death meat fridge.

Apart from the old takeout and the drippings of coke pooled in the bottom of the crisper, the second worst find was a rotting telegraph cucumber which had turned into literal mush. Lucky it was still in its wrapping so when I picked it up to the end, the mouldy contents just slid down to the bottom of the bag. Gross.

The worst, however, was horrific. Even Banana Grabber couldn't handle it.

Loud Sex Housemate NEVER throws away his shit. And behind a pack of rotting basil, was hiding this wierd lumpy white and green thing. It looked like a wedge of chunky fetta. UNTIL WE REALISED IT WAS HALF A LEMON. The only way we could tell was the faint citrus pattern on one side. It was so rotten that it had imploded on itself and was no more lemon shaped, more like a lumpy triangular prism.

Banana Grabber: Hey, we should both lick it and see who dies first
Karen: NOOOOO *cries and curls up in corner*

Then Banana Grabber accidentally dropped it on the ground. And it exploded from its gladwrap home, and it was foul. I was crying tears of fear. You know, like when you smell someone's really bad gas and you don't want to breathe it in but there's no choice because you're trapped in a confined environment? Yeah, like that.

So now we have delegated shelves. Loud Sex Housemate gets the bottom, and I'm going to make him clean it out every time the fridge stinks. For the oldest housemate, he seems the most vacant.