photos: trouble.place
We’re all young and poor at some point. And being young and poor in Berlin is not immediately a reason to freak out. But, for many it is the start of one storyline: “You, your room, and that WG”. For some this is just a short act on their way to “Me and my first own place”, for others it’s a longer narrative they won’t escape until their late thirties, or maybe they’ll never… It is a story that can take unexpected turns, creepy twists or just ends up being one absurd sitcom. We collected some hilarious Berlin WG stories. Maybe you can relate…
Julia (28) – Neukölln
My roommate John’s a womanizer. I stopped counting when the 30th girl ran into me in the hallway, awkwardly smiling, starting her walk of shame on a Sunday morning. We all have needs, and he is one needy man! Which wasn’t a problem at all for me… until last Monday. I got up at 7 …‘cause I really had to pee, like, the way you gotta pee when you drink 2 liters of water before going to bed. But then, repetitive moaning sounds from the bathroom put a sudden end to my passionate plans of releasing my bladder. Shit! Fine, ok, I think. I’ll just wait ‘til they’re done with it. Can’t last forever, right? My seminar started at 10h. When I left the house at 9:30h they were still going at it. Thanks to my very potent roomy I had to pee into a water bottle in my own room. Like, seriously, …a water bottle – Never forget.
photo: trouble.place
Alex (24) – Kreuzberg
My roomie is generally messy. It’s ok. I’m used to it I’m also not Mr. Tidy himself. We have reached new territory tho: I come home from a weekend out of town. His shoes cover the hallway floor. The kitchen is a kind of battlefield situation: Empty cereal, open milk containers and dirty dishes. Some old pasta here, half-eaten sandwiches there and the scent of old yoghurt, mmmm. I remember giving him one task: Dude, clean the dishwasher, so we can use it again…! Can’t recall telling him to realistically recreate a dumpster… Slowly, I approach the dish washer. I open it…. How should I tell you what awaited me… Let’s just say: It was all green and VERY alive. …
photo: trouble.place
Annie (21) – Wedding
When I moved in the girl renting the place was all like: “This is home for me, and a safe haven, and it should be quite, and I gotta go to work at six am ‘cause I’m a nurse and got long shifts. So, please be quiet and respectful.” So, I tiptoed around the apartment for like two months. Until she was on holiday and simultaneously discovered her love for Goa Techno, …while I had exams to learns for… Yeah. she didn’t care… BOOM BOOM BOOM. Oh, how I love double standards!
photo: trouble.place
Tim (25) – Friedrichshain
Roommates are weird. You just end up spending a whole lot of time with people you might actually not really like. But, a subleaser can be even weirder sometimes. My roomy just put this man in the other room for 4 months while she was discovering something in somewhere. And, he was weeiiird alright! I’ll just remember him as that unemployed dude, who loved long sleeps, alcohol, pijamas, potatoes and cabbage, loads and loads of cabbage. And he’d always sigh, every morning when he’d walk past my door. When I’d talk to him he’d kind of… grunt?! I almost got depressed just by living with him. Well, I’d be depressed too if my life only consisted of cabbage and beer….
photo: trouble.place
Eluise (26) Friedrichshain
I’ve been living with Bernd for quite a while. He’s just one of these aimless creatives. Too many ideas, not enough focus. So, I’ve always encouraged him to just DO something if he feels like it’s the right thing. I feel like my pep talk kinda backfired on me. Bernd started learning the saxophone last week in a DIY kinda way. And, all that he can actually DO himself so far is playing the “Pink Panther” melody. And he LOVES playing that one, over and over and over again. For three hours straight. On a Sunday at 9am…
photo: trouble.place
Casper (22) Pankow
Imagine my roommate: Long hair, vintage clothes, long beard… modern Hippi, you know. And he loves two things: Jars, and plants. So, to be more specific: He collects jars, so that he can put more plants into more jars. So, I stopped buying anything that even remotely resembles a jar. As it would just end up in another discussion on sustainability and my general lack of interest for mother earth… and especially JARS. Over time our kitchen has evolved into something in between green house and glass container … One day the jars will take over my room and force me into exile.
photo: trouble.place
