The Do's and Dont's of Flat-Sitting
18 April 2010
I have become a flat-sitter. By this I do not mean someone with a square bum. No, I am taking care of someone else’s home in their absence. This is not any ordinary flat, but that of a man who is infinitely better-off than myself. It is practically a palace, what with it’s Victorian ceiling paintings, parquet flooring, grand piano and parades of priceless antiques.
That I landed this responsibility, is rather surprising, as anyone who knows me will attest, I am not known for my cleanliness and things of value of tend to fall apart when I touch them. Nonetheless, for a month I have been solely responsible for the upkeep of this mansion and have taken well to the job of janitor.
Over and above the list of things to do (water plants, set burglar alarm, set heating to level three etc) I have learned, however, that there are many unwritten rules to flat-sitting. For example, since part of the plan is to make the place look occupied, by having lights on, the TV on, etc (to keep burglars away) it is important to spend some time in the flat doing these things. Herein lies the first unwritten rule: Don’t get too relaxed – you do not actually live there.
This I have found very unsettling, as just after having watched a movie and staggering towards bed I realise that I am not in fact in my own home, and so have to face a two mile drive back to my own bed, through the cold dark night.
The second unwritten rule involves bathing. My own flat is infamous for it’s lack of space. People get shown round, then stop in there tracks after I’ve shown them the living room/ kitchen/bedroom (which are actually one room). ‘Oh, is that it?’ They ask ‘but where’s your bathroom?’ I have a toilet pan but no bath, until someone invents a bath that can be taken vertically I shall have to do without. Imagine then the temptations I have had to face in the palace with it’s extra-wide, Jacuzzi style, gold tapped all- singing-all-dancing constant-hot-water antique porcelain bathtub.
Suffice to say I have got into the rather odd habit of travelling miles to bathe and have spent entire days luxuriating in steaming ecstasy. But herein lies the most important lesson.
When flat-sitting do not use up all of the owners bath products.
At first it was the fruits-of-the-forest scented bath bombs, then the champagne shampoo. Various lotions and potions then followed as I lay back in the suds reading from the aphorisms of Oscar Wilde.
It was only when I realised that the true property owner was due to return within a week that I discovered the full extent of my trespass. There was no way I could hide the fact that I’d used up every last drop of bubble bath and ea de toilette. I made an inventory of what had to be replaced, taking careful note of the labels and brands. Of course this being the home of a rich man with considerable style, he had not been one to skimp on bathing materials. So it has been that in replacing all that I had used, I am out of pocket to the tune of one hundred and fourteen pounds.
Such is the price of decadence.
I’m just hoping that the owner will not notice the slight discrepancy between the brands of champagne scented bath bombs. For the life of me I was damned if I was going to fork out another fifty quid on the Vintage Bollinger version.
1 comment
Written by Jon Unger on 19 April 2010 at 17:00:00
I think you showed considerable restraint and impeccable manners by replacing his bathroom products. No parties or a sleepover? Weren't you tempted to rummage through his drawers and try his clothes on??