A couple of years ago, my partner and I moved in with a friend of a friend and her housemate Kevina. Stories of this Kevina's Kevinosity were already pretty legendary within our group before we moved in, but there was something about our newfound proximity to her actions and decision making process that really nailed home her Kevina status. Here are a few of the highlights:

  • We live in Australia, where voting in elections is mandatory. Prior to a state election, Kevina was adamant that she had changed her address from her old address in a different city a few hundred kilometres away to their new address. Our other housemate had not done this, but this was fine as you are able to vote in absentia at your local polling booth and have this vote counted in your home electorate. At the polling booth Kevina told the person marking names off that she needed to vote locally, but he could not find her name on the list. Kevina made him check again, but to no avail. Both Kevina and our other housemate were directed to the desk to vote in a different electorate. Kevina made the person at this desk check AGAIN to make sure she was not on the list. This patient electoral worker checked again, and informed Kevina that she was not on the list for this electorate, and that she would have to vote in absentia for her old electorate. At this moment, panic and anger have stricken Kevina's face. Her voicing rising in pitch and volume, she exclaimed to the electoral worker: "But I can't make it to today!" Our other housemate didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or slap her.
  • A lot of these relate to her questionable habits with food. Kevina was a big ice cream fan, and was one day complaining to our other housemate that the spoon she was using to get her ice cream out of the tub was bending from her exertions. My housemate suggested she pour hot water over it so it might be able to cut through the ice cream more easily. Kevina misunderstood the instruction, boiled the kettle, and proceeded to pour a litre of boiling water directly in to the tub of ice cream. A few weeks later she did a very similar thing with a frozen lasagne
  • Kevina came back from an organic grocer one day raving about this 'new milk' she was excited about trying. When pressed about what made the milk new, she said it was 'less processed, and therefore better for you' than regular milk. It turns out that the element of processing that had been removed from this milk was pasteurisation. Kevina had bought non pasteurised milk, which can technically only be sold in stores in Australia as a bath milk, with the intention of drinking it. Try as we may, we could not explain to her the benefits of the pasteurisation process, and why it might be necessary before the milk was bottled, and then transferred from god knows how far away to a super market, however many days ago.
  • My partner came home one day to find Kevina sitting in front of a one metre long pizza. She explained she had been very hungry, and so ordered the largest size, which had cost her in excess of $35. She wasn't on great money at the time, and seemed a little bit bummed out about the amount of money she had spent on dinner, so my partner consoled her saying that there was so much food that she would probably be able to get another few meals out of the pizza, reducing the cost per meal over all. About 40-45 mins later, my partner walked back through where Kevina was eating to find her sweating, labouring for breath, forcing herself to eat the last piece of pizza, despite telling my partner she did not want to eat the pizza anymore. My partner suggested that she could still save the rest for later, but Kevina explained that she could not, as she had measured and the box would not fit in the fridge.
  • Kevina went to Samoa with her now fiance for a holiday, and neglected to clean out her shelf (the top one) in the fridge before she left. Kevina often cooked frozen whiting filets using the microwave, which routinely stank the house out and annoyed everyone else. Until she went to Samoa, we did not realise Kevina had been keeping the filets in the fridge, slowly defrosting. We were made aware of this when the stinky fish juice of her until-recently-frozen whiting filets began to leak through the whole fridge.
  • Kevina was notoriously thrifty, particularly towards the end of her tenancy. This was not a problem, and was sensible of her given her financial situation, but due to being a Kevina it was often expressed in very odd ways. The most notable of these was her taking all but two rolls of toilet paper with her when she moved out, as she had last bought it. She had no engagement with the concept of toilet paper being a communal expense, and saw no connection between this lot of toilet paper, the last lot that we had bought, or the one before that our other housemate had bought.
  • When it finally came time for Kevina to move out, we did an inspection of her room to figure out its state, as she was very pushy about the time frame in which she would get her bond back. Upon inspection, we found that her walls were covered, floor to ceiling in mould. At various times she had remarked that she didn't like having her window open as she "didn't like the smell of fresh air", but I guess we didn't really know how bad it had gotten in there. There was also six divots in the hardwood floor. Not just scrapes or scuffs, full chunks ground out of the floor. We couldn't explain it initially, until we saw her bed leaned up against the wall outside her room, with six metal casters that matched the spacing of the divots. Kevina and her partner are both on the larger side, and both the divots and the mould seemed to be the aftermath of the sustained presence of 250ish kgs of hot, sweaty love. When questioned on the divots, Kevina denied she had caused them and claimed they were there when she moved in.
  • When we told Kevina that she would need to clean the mould in her room or forfeit part of her bond for it to be professionally cleaned, she was not best pleased, but the miser in her won out and she decided to do it herself. She disappeared to Bunnings for half an hour, and came back with a ton of bleach, wearing a dust mask, and eye mask, and a disposable plastic suit that covered all of her from neck to wrists to ankles. She looked like Walter White. The flaws in Kevina's plan became clear pretty quickly. The eye protection she had bought had holes at the side for ventilation, rendering them pretty much useless against the bleach. The dust masks were not particularly helpful either, and she still was not that keen on the smell of fresh air, meaning she had the window and door closed like some sort of noxious hotbox. The cherry on top of this was that she was working on ladder, directly below what she was scrubbing, meaning that the bleach and mould were immediately settling back on her. At various stages she exited the room to cough her lungs up, face red, eyes red, and hair full of chunks of mould.

Bit of a long one, but I think that's the vast majority of the memorable stories that involved her. Now she has a kid, and I am really starting to question my belief in natural selection. Oh well, the best of luck to the family Kevin. I hope none of them walk past any uncovered manholes.

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