The classic Hyde Park terraced house is notorious for its chipboard-thin walls, chopping up a space into as many individual rent factories bedrooms as possible. Hence today’s dilemma: did they hear the buzzing?
You thought last night’s night in for one was nothing to be ashamed of at the time. In the absence of any romantic or sexual attention whatsoever (apart from ugly guys), you felt liberated with your pizza, Netflix and 2-for-1 deal on actually quite nasty rosé. This was empowerment; this was feminism; this was whatever buzzword you liked.
Yet this morning, the hangover paranoia has gripped you. Surely they couldn’t hear the buzzing, right? You sit down with housemate George at the breakfast table. Why’s he not meeting your eyes??
“George,” you say, “hear anything weird last night?”
Poor George looks uncomfortably perplexed. You regret asking this question like you’ve never regretted anything many things before.
“Planes,” you quickly say. “Flying so low – what a weird whirring drone.”
Perhaps George heard but did not understand, as men are wont to do. You berate yourself for buying the luxury version with 24 different speeds. You cannot understand why you did not anticipate the noise an item that takes two hefty DD batteries would make. You cannot understand why you never thought to get Under the duvet.
Housemates Ben and Eliza walk in. What was that smirk she gave you?? Was it a knowing glance? Was it a good-morning smirk? Was it even a smirk at all?
You manage to ask Ben a normal question about the transcendental meditation class he is due to attend today (a difficult task at any time, to be fair.) He tells you he has begun a new mantra with “harmonizing vibrations”.
You choke on your breakfast smoothie, a feat previously thought impossible.The Whip investigative team can confirm what your paranoia already told you: yes, your housemates heard the buzzing. Yet, you have since passed the point of caring. All three left for uni, while you stew alone, deeply stressed until realising the solution lay within the problem.
Bliss – alone at last.