This is every type of person you will find in King’s uni halls: Rated
Warning: The bin rotas might hit a little too close to home
Living in university halls is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. More often than not, they’re hellish pits that bring together the most unlikely pairings, creating an off-brand rendition of The Breakfast Club. Just that, consider adding a lot more passive-aggressive remarks about bin rotas, inevitable flatcest, and (a concerning amount) of letters addressed to past residents, just marinating on the coffee table. This is a guide to the characters you will meet while living in King’s university halls, rated by how likely they are to survive the year.
Coming in last (but has to get the first mention), simply because of the enemies they have made along the way, we have The Problem. The Problem can usually be found hot-boxing the kitchen and playing music far too loud. They’re very rarely in the flat, somehow balancing coursework, lectures, a social life, and torturing their flatmates, among other things.
The Problem comes in different breeds, from the Messy Problem to the Stoner Problem all the way to the bigoted problem (some Problems may even be a mix of all three!) They’ve somehow mastered the craft of offending every minority to ever exist in one breath. That being said, this shared dislike for The Problem more often than not tends to bring the more decent flatmates closer, creating the best inside jokes and a unique, unspoken camaraderie. The Problem’s flatmates most certainly have murderous intent when it comes to their not-so-pleasant neighbour – do we really need to explain why they’re the least likely to survive?
The Takeout Bandit
This flatmate trumps The Problem, not only because their mess tends to be restricted to greasy McDonald’s wrappers and soggy straws thus making them more tolerable and less of a target, but mostly because of the stealth that they develop sneaking in and out of the flat unnoticed up to three times a day to secure their invaluable Deliveroo/Uber Eats order. The Takeout Bandit does not know how to operate a stove, they have never had to cook for themselves – they probably had someone to cook for them at home, I’m not talking about a parent, I’m talking about a personal chef.
They moved into halls without any utensils, instead, they bought paper plates and plastic spoons in the first week of uni to avoid the torturous task of washing their own plates. Usually decked out in socks and Nike sliders, to ensure minimal sound and pass unnoticed, this species of flatmate is optimally prepared for any weather conditions, seemingly immune to freezing temperatures and rainstorms due to their uniform consisting exclusively of their shrunken leaver’s hoody (thanks Circuit Laundry) and pyjama shorts. The Takeout Bandit comes in second to last in terms of survival. If every food delivery driver went on strike, they would inevitably starve to death due to their inability to operate a toaster (or then set it on fire).
The Windup is either the most likeable flatmate or the second most frustrating (coming in close after The Problem). There is no in-between. The Likeable Windup is definitely on the stronger side of the spectrum due to them always being the type of social butterfly that tends to thrive in this type of setting. While The Likeable Windup most likely has basic survival skills needed to last the year, they place in third simply because they are so unserious it is likely they will drop out. They are the flatmate you go to when you need a laugh, they will make fun of The Problem with you and they will remind you that the first year of uni is never that serious. The Windup may get on your nerves due to their constant teasing and positivity, but the frustration never lasts long due to their fun-loving personality.
That being said, they also possess the inexplicable ability to constantly be the devil’s advocate and annoy everyone. Somehow, they have mastered the delicate ratio of funny to infuriating, being frustrating enough to make you leave the kitchen prematurely to avoid popping a blood vessel. Most interactions with them begin with the dreaded phrase “Not to be offensive but-” or some variation of fighting about the right place to store your bread or local politics. Their only weakness is that more often than not their strategy catches up with them, resulting in a collective callout and a shoddy apology that they dug out from the depths of their notes app.
The Mother Hen
Shout out to this flatmate! Although they tend to be a busy second or third-year student, their schedule’s full of university work, volunteering, tutoring and socialising, they always find the time to ask you if you’re okay, how your day was, and if you’ve eaten today. The Mother Hen is always there to remind you that they’re there if you need to talk and you can go to them for anything. They’re a true gem really and if you have a mother hen in your flat, treasure them! The sole reason this flatmate does not rank first in the likelihood of survival is simply because the stress of all their adopted children (flatmates) is sure to cause some kind of health issues.
By the end of the year, they come to the realisation that they should have left well enough alone and left all the first years to their own devices and mistakes rather than stepping in as the flat therapist. They should probably be able to sue for emotional damages by the end of the year, it’s not easing being a sentient encyclopaedia for unruly first years who had to learn that clubbing on a Wednesday night and going to a 9am lecture don’t go well together the hard way.
Does this flatmate even count? Most of us forget they even live here until they decide to jump-scare you in the kitchen whilst you’re collecting a midnight snack. This is what makes them the inarguable top contender for uni survival. The Ghost, also known as The Hermit is most of us, only leaving their room when they absolutely have to aka they’ve exhausted their unlimited supply of crisps. Once in a blue moon, they’ll interact with you, most likely to catch up on all the notices they’ve been unaware of due to them muting the group chat two weeks into the year.
You only realise that The Ghost is your flatmate once you’ve ridden in the lift together, gotten off on the same floor, and gone to open the same flat. You’re pretty sure that The Ghost is renting out their room to a family of five as they’re simultaneously the quietest and loudest flatmate. You’re also pretty sure that the voices you heard in the first two weeks were someone living in your walls because you were 90 per cent sure that The Ghost’s room was unoccupied. That being said, this makes them the ultimate survivor, the only way to truly get through living in uni halls is by simply pretending that you don’t.
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