There are different degrees of filth, , and the peak is often reached in a house inhabited by students, especially if of different nationalities.
The filth host is not a bad guy, he’s usually a kind and joyous guy: he likes to meet the guest at the subway, gives him a hand to carry the suitcase up the five floors of stairs (the elevator is broken in 99% of cases), and after opening the door of the house, kicks a trolley planted in the middle of the tiny hall to make room for your luggage.
The movement of air causes the balls of dust on the floor to chase each other in the corridor, but the host acts like it’s okay and follows his guest in the kitchen. "Would you like something to drink? There should be a clean glass somewhere ..." The scene that appears before the eyes of the poor guest is creepy: sink and kitchen is full of dirty dishes waiting for a charitable hand to wash them. The table is full of crumbs and a lot of half-eaten food consumed in the previous days. Next to the trash can there is a stack of pizza boxes, from which two rows of obese cockroaches come and go. And lastly, behind the door, to prevent it from opening, four huge shopping bags full of empty beer bottles.
The filth host follows the guest around the room and feels obliged to justify himself "You know, nobody ever wants to make five floors of stairs with that stuff ..." While he’s drinking the glass of water offered to him without thinking about where he is putting his lips, the guest thinks that if he did not die in the Gobi desert, he will survive this time too.
The dirty host shows the guest the bedroom. It seems impossible, but there are dirty dishes here too, in particular the nightstand offers a collection of cups with coffee grounds and ashtrays filled with cigarette ends and the ash felt obliged to move even on the floor and on the bed itself. You know, right up there on that bed where you will sleep.
Your room is next to Owen’s room, the Irish guest who goes on a little bender, then comes home in the middle of the night singing "God Save the Queen" by the Sex Pistols and Rajiv's room, the Indian guest who likes abound with curry in the kitchen.
The guest is resigned to it. He asks to go to the bathroom. The host explains that there is only one bathroom: the floor is littered with socks and underwear, the sink is encrusted with soap, limestone and residual hairs of various beards, the bidet is used as a laundry basket. I do not talk about the toilet bowl so as not to upset your sensibility.
While the guest leaves the bathroom repeating like a mantra "It's only for two nights, it's only for two nights, it's only for two nights ...", the filthy host meets him in the corridor with a blanket full of dark spots, wishing him good night.
Despite the people's coming and going, the screaming and the smell of smoke, the guest somehow can sleep through the night. When he wakes up, while he’s making his move to the bathroon as he is in a trance, he seems to notice the filthy host sitting in the kitchen rubbing a bare foot with a cup of coffee on the table.
He comes out of the bathroom. He goes to look for something for breakfast in the kitchen. There, on the table, next to a saucer full of crumbs, he finds an ordered pile of yellowish nails a quarter inch long. He struggles to hold back the urge to vomit, then returns to the living room, packs his bag in record time and runs away.
@Vania36
