I was on the bus the other day. Terrible I know, but I have been known to have to use the bloody thing from time to time, as my house mate assures me that he’s not actually my chauffeur.
The reason why I mention it is that I overheard a conversation which managed to utterly depress me. Sitting in front of me were two chaps, one of which was coolly telling the other about how he keeps an enormous multi pack of extra plush quilted toilet paper locked in a cupboard under his bed to prevent his house mates from using it. Really! I thought. Is this what we’ve become? Students, universally considered the most hard living, happy-go-lucky band of reprobates outside of the French Foreign Legion, have finally turned into a bunch of tight-fisted would-be accountants fighting endless cold wars over perceived thieveries and petty 
cash disputes.
You might not like to think so, but I fear it’s true. We’re a disappointment, bringing shame on our easy going, grifter fore bears. None of them would have been caught dead spending money on toilet roll more luxurious than the pages of one of those free newspapers that are forever getting posted through your door. I myself am steadily making my way through a copy of the last edition of Nouse as we speak. But say one of these student heroes of yore was able to get hold of some luxurious bog roll, do you think they would hoard it, deny the comfort from their house mates over some minor gripe and the financial loss of a handful of pocket change?
My brothers! My sisters! Something has to give, and anyone familiar with me will be aware that I do not make such proclamations lightly. I’m no revolutionary, I’m not exactly sold on putting more socialism into our government but maybe we could all use a few more socialist values in our lives.
After all, as Kropotkin once said “proper tea is theft” and if you’ve got some proper tea I’ll be having the odd bag off you every now and again. There’s only so long a man can live off cuppas made from a clump of twigs boiled orange in an old boot, and quite frankly it serves you right anyway you Twinings drinking capitalist bilge dog.
So embrace thy neighbour, and stop passive-aggressively inferring you think he’s been half inching your cheerios. You probably ate them, and if not, well they probably did, but let’s just forget about it eh? Life’s too short and all that.
Obviously if you’re living with some sort of serious kleptomaniac who stole your watch and took your chicken fillets and made them into ear muffs, feel free to get irritated. But it’s almost never that is it? It’s string of little things made worse by the paranoia that NOTHING IS SAFE.
No pint of milk, no block of cheese, no bottle of ketchup. Shit, as the wise man once said, is want to happen, and in a co-habitation situation, particularly in halls, where you can have over ten people sharing a fridge or kitchen, overlap (ok, ok petty theft) is certain to occur to some degree. Sometimes people need a bit of butter in a hurry, sometimes they just can’t be arsed to go to the shop, it happens. Now this may sound like an apology for larceny, and I suppose it kind of is. But more so it’s a call to accept the inevitability of these things, and to make your peace with them. If you’re really worried about the pennies lost through your housemates petty pinching then why not communalize a few key things? Like milk and bread and washing up tablets.
Take it in turns to buy certain stuff, start a kitty, hold hands and share the love. Hell what do I care, just stop bitching on the bus and behaving like tin foil hat wearing preppers living in an abandoned mine shaft in rural North Dakota. Seriously, cut it out. It’s not a good look on anyone.