Clean BEFORE Your BBQ, Karen
I was recently invited to a bbq* at a friend’s house. When my family and I arrived, it was the most digusting scene imaginable. I have known her for over a decade and have overlooked some untidiness in the past. But this….this was on a scale of filth that showed it had never been clean, at any point, ever. And that she clearly did not care or seem to see the dirt.
*bbq in the UK simply means cooking burgers and franks outside on a grill, not a real bbq, with fucking actual bbq — that’d be silly!
We brought beer and potato salad and there was literally nowhere to even put it down. My beau asked if he could pop it into her fridge. She said “Is it still warm?” and it was, slightly. “Oh no,” she told us, very solemnly “if potato salad is hot you cannae put it in the fridge or it will turn bad. It isn’t safe.” So she placed it on the corner of her counter. Her filth covered, sticky, crusted counter. My beau and I just looked at eachother. “Maitai time?” I asked him.
I have slept in squats that were cleaner than this flat. There was no loo roll in her bathroom. No soap to wash hands. No towel to wipe hands. There were dirty dishes from days ago crusted in her sink. The cat litter sat by the kitchen door, untidily. There was not a clear surface anywhere in that room.