In 2006, I moved back to London, having studied and worked abroad there the year prior. As the very first place where I had awakened from my academic stupor to a greater world, I worshipped the city and just knew I was going to have the time of my life.
And then I met a man we’ll call “Rajiv.” At once a landlord and the bane of my existence, Rajiv was a neat freak extraordinaire. I couldn’t move without him clearing his throat or tsking or saying, “Yes, Leah, about that dish rack. Really, you should not leave dishes there. You can drain them over the dish rack and then wipe the dish manually, but the dish rack is not for dishes.”
For many months, I put up with the situation, trying my best to please, until one day, I had enough. I decided to take my power back, to embrace rebellion, to be free. I decided use that dish rack.
The story is hosted at one of my favorite sites (used it all the time when traveling), StudyAbroad.com. Check out “When Your Roommate Sucks, Rebellion Lies in the Kitchen” and perhaps add a few rebel stories of your own.
What do you mean the dish rack is not for dishes? It’s a Dish Rack! Now that’s just crazy talk. The dish rack is where I usually keep the clean dishes, matter of fact.
That’s the best place for ‘em, I say!
To be fair, when I accused him in our final blowout of banning me from using the dish rack, he denied any such any accusation, marched to the sink, washed a dish, held it over the dish rack and said, “I didn’t say you couldn’t use the dish rack. I said you use the dish rack to drain the water…and then you use a towel to dry the dish by hand just like this and put it away in the cupboard. SEE?”
Uh…
I absolutely LOVE this! Very funny and well written.
Thanks mamacita!