Flatting is a delicate balance of personalities, habits, and passive aggressiveness. For the first time, you get to experience life free from the watchful eye of parents or RAs – and that usually means 2-minute noodles for every second meal, putting off your washing to the last minute, and, inevitably, those flat meetings. The ones about power conservation, keeping the flat tidy, and “being respectful to the other people living here.” Which is fine… until it isn’t. If these conversations feel less like problem-solving and more like being in the Gulag, chances are you may be dealing with a flat dictator. Here’s Critic’s guide to knowing what kind of authoritarian you’re living with, plus some revolutionary tips on how to liberate yourself from their iron-fisted rule.
Disclaimer: Critic is not responsible for any arguments, ruined friendships or toxic living situations.
Mao Zebong
Everyone has a different opinion on weed, and that’s fine! It’s basic human decency to not hotbox the living room if your flatmates aren’t into it. However, there’s “please don’t smoke inside” and then there’s Mao Zebong. Good ol’ Zebong hates even the sight of a bong in your room. Their nose is stronger than a drug dog’s and they will be able to smell that purple haze (or what your dealer claims is purple haze) through the 12 layers of Lynx Africa. If you try to nip outside for a quick joint you will be reprimanded quicker than you can say, “Sir, yes, sir.”
Best believe that they will appoint themselves to do random room checks, and anything vaguely cylindrical will be left on the dining room table for you to explain when you get home. Because weed is a gateway drug and Zebong would never dabble in the ganja, you are an addict.
Tips to overthrow Zebong: Get a vaporiser, light some incense, and smoke in the shower to rub it in their face. Bonus points for blasting Bob Marley at full volume – that’s what I call a Cultural Revolution.
Messolini
The most common form of flat authoritarian is the Messolini, commonly misdiagnosed as ‘neat freaks’ or ‘type A people’. The first warning sign will be the colour-coded, laminated chore chart that appears on the fridge one day, paired with a message in the group chat about punishments for not doing your assigned tasks that week. If it’s your first year flatting, this chart can feel like a relief. In theory, it helps everyone do their fair share. But past the first year, do we really need a chore chart? Surely we’re all fairly sensible and proactive adults who know when something needs cleaning? Maybe that’s a question for another day.
Messolini clings to that goddamn chore chart harder than a drill sergeant at military boot camp. And, just like a drill sergeant, they’re mouthy – in the group chat. Messolini hides behind their screen while doling out punishments for forgetting to put a liner in the bin after rubbish day. However, they will also mysteriously have neglected to properly clean the bathroom, again. Their Canva propaganda is the highpoint of their life, and they revel in the power of getting to tell people what to do. It’s Messolini’s way or no way, and they will cry at one flat meeting about the fact that no one empties the dishwasher.
Tips to overthrow Messolini: Resist. Stop engaging. Clean when things are dirty, not when a little pink square with your name in it tells you to.
Pol Pots and Pans
Sometimes life happens. You cook pasta, you forget about it, you fuse it to the bottom of the pan. You leave it to soak, because standing at the sink and scrubbing fusilli off metal is not an immediate priority. Apparently it should be, according to Pol Pots and Pans. God forbid a pan is left on the bench overnight.
Expect crime scene-esque photos in the group chat, an all-angles analysis of your misdemeanour with the “friendly reminder” (a death threat would be less intimidating) that other people need to use the pots. And like, valid. What isn’t valid is the fact Pol Pots and Pans stockpiles dishes in their room like they’re preparing for the apocalypse. One more “hey, can we start washing dishes as soon as we’re done with them <3” and I’ll take that pan and [REDACTED] to your [REDACTED] until you [REDACTED].
Tips to overthrow Pol Pots and Pans: Start soaking all the pots and pans, even when unnecessary. Then one won’t seem so bad. Or hide all the forks or something, idfk.
Kim Jong Un-plug
A classic first conversation among flats is about power providers. Most students opt for the 9-12 free power. You’d struggle to find a flat that wasn’t running the washing machine, dishwasher, shower, and dryer all in those three sacred hours. An electrical fire waiting to happen? Probably. But it’s free. While it’s a great way to save a bit of extra cash, sometimes you inevitably have to do laundry in the daytime – there’s no chance my sheets will dry otherwise.
Kim Jong Un-plug would say otherwise. They’re such a tight-ass about money that the use of any electrical appliance before it’s free is BANNED. A true Kim Jong Un-plug won't even allow lights until 9pm, so you'll be shuffling about with your phone torch as the only light source, feeling like an 18th century peasant running through the halls of the castle by candlelight. Cute little roleplay until you’ve kicked the corner of your bed for the sixth time and have genuine fears your little toe may require amputation.
But, don’t worry: you can always flock to Kim Jong Un-plug’s salt lamp that will inevitably be on at all times because it “gets drippy otherwise”. Want to dry your hair after a cheeky morning shower, though? That’s a luxury, comrade.
Tips to overthrow Kim Jong Un-plug: Google how much your appliances actually use and realise that $0.03 cents per hour doesn't really add up.
Frozeph Stalin
A special subclass of the Kim Jong Un-plug is Frozeph Stalin. No matter how cold it gets, the heat pump stays off. They’ve romanticised suffering and take sick satisfaction in seeing their breath indoors. They’re single-handedly ensuring that the hot water bottle and Oodie markets stay afloat.
Frozeph Stalin’s ideal winter aesthetic is Survival Mode. They relish the struggle. You, on the other hand, just want to feel your fingers. Soon, you’ll be rationing tea bags like you’re bracing for another Russian winter and knitting your own gloves for warmth. Soup will become less of a meal and more of a coping mechanism.
Tips to overthrow Frozeph Stalin: Start turning the heater on in little increments – gaslight, if you have to – until they realise that being warm is actually not so bad after all. Also, read Nina’s ‘Turn on Your Heat Pump’ editorial from last year; she makes a pretty compelling case for just growing up and turning the heat pump on.