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The french flat mate.

After a my stream of brilliant flat mates, I was beginning to think that this share accommodation thing was just like every episode of friends.

With the coming of winter I have made certain plans, a key component in these plans being a decent wingman. After all its not a bachelor flat else bachelors live there. So it was with some excitement that a French guy got in contact with me to stay for 6 weeks.

After some basic facebook stalking I found his profile page with a picture of him mountain biking. Our conversations over email also went well with discussion of other such manly bachelor things as Czech beer and the local pubs. He also worked for Apple so would have a large resource of colleagues from the furthest reaches (and best looking) parts of Europe.

So I thought this was a great deal and had visions of our duo of French style and charm together with my South Africanism would devastate the local female population.

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double trouble
Submitted by laurence on Thu, 2007-12-20 07:55
Or the title of the story could be "How to split the bill so that the total of cash is roughly the same as the total at the end of the slip". Not totally surprising though, the infamous short bill.
Not to drag on about money and other such unimportant things.
Romy and I were both born on the 3rd December (both Sagittarius, a fire sign!), so it only made sense for Romy to get on Facebook (gag, shock horror) and arrange 30 or our closest friends to a party at the Italian Club.
If I had thought about it, I could have predicted that within 5 minutes we would piss off the waitress as our 3 tables of 12 migrated in an irregular pattern from the bar to our table and than back again. To what become dubbed the shooter bar. Later on in the evening they even had to bring our birthday cakes to us in the bar.
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