My female, shy, somewhat reserved flatmate comes home drunk tonight; “oh I meant to tell you”, looking at me, “I went and got everything waxed from the belly button down!”
It’s her first time, so I’m not surprised at the fact she wants to share the event.
My phone beeps. Gay, male flatmate has text me from across the living room; “I bet it’s like an otter yawning. I’m off girls for life!”
Wine sprays across the room as I snort with laughter trying to control myself.
When I was 16, thinking of what my life would be at nearly 30, this is not what I pictured. But who wants to be a grown up anyway?