I’M IN A trendy bar in Islington, moving from table to table on the sound of a whistle, as complete strangers tell me they want someone friendly and easy-going to share their life. But, bizarrely, none of them is trying to sleep with me: I’m speed-flatmating, not speed-dating.
The collection of young professional types in the bar are sneaking surreptitious glances at each other before the event kicks off. I can see people looking at me, doubtless thinking: “She looks like a milk thief.” I have an uncontrollable desire to stand up and say: “My name’s Antonia Senior and I am a dreadful flatmate. I once nicked my flatmate’s white sheet for a toga party, covered it in booze and fag burns and pretended it had been stolen by someone else.”
The other flatmate-seekers appear to be just as bemused by the proceedings, once we all begin chatting, although none seems keen to be as suicidally confessional as I want to be. Jessica, a 22-year-old looking for someone to share her flat in Hackney, had been dumped by her flatmate that day and had come along to the event in the hope of replacing him. “I don’t really know what to expect. But if I get a flatmate out of this, it’s a bonus,” she said.
This was the attitude of most of the people at the event: a little bit sceptical but willing to give it a go. The insurance brokers, journalists and furniture designers, all looking for someone “easy-going”, “friendly”, even “a bit of a hunk”, to share their homes, begin to speed-flatmate.
The brain child of spareroom.co.uk, a website for flatseekers, speed-flatmating is intended to take the hassle out of finding a flatmate. The concept is modelled on speed-dating, the mystifyingly popular dating concept that promises you’ll find true love during a three-minute chat about the weather. The stakes are not as high at speed-flatmating. If you are house-sharing, there are only three criteria to worry about: how well located and vaguely habitable the property is, how cheap it is and who you will be living with. As the last is the most difficult to decide, it makes sense to start with the flatmates.
At speed-flatmating, those with rooms to rent sit at tables, while flatseekers move between them desperately trying to give the impression of being an ideal flatmate in the five minutes allocated. Each group ticks the people they like, and the organisers provide contact details to those who match. The flatseekers can then visit the rooms already knowing the price and the location and that their potential flatmate does not appear to be a lunatic.
Rupert Hunt, founder of spareroom.co.uk, said: “If you’re looking for a flat, you can spend all night getting somewhere to view a room, and you know within minutes of arriving that you are just not going to get on with your potential flatmate.”
At the speed-flatmating event, potential house-sharers are thrown into a room, given a free drink and the chance to meet a range of people. At present the organisers charge just £5 entry fee for the service. As Gemma Craft, from spareroom.co.uk, said: “We thought people would be willing to pay less for speed-flatmating than for speed-dating, because with the dating version there’s a chance of sex at the end of the evening.”
A group of people drinking free booze in a bar and not looking for sex? A novel concept.
Nicola, a 26-year old production assistant, said: “I want someone I can get on with, someone who won’t just hide away in their room.”
Jessica said: “I want someone who’s nice and friendly. I don't like smelly people; they should live by themselves.”
This emphasis on friendliness and cleanliness disturbed me. Leaning back in a chair to appear easy-going while smiling fixedly was not only exhausting but I have a strong suspicion I came across as lazy, with a scary leer. The knowledge that I was burying my true nature as the flatmate from hell underneath an affable exterior and assurances of an interest in domestic chores made me suspicious of other people.
One home-owner said that he didn’t want drugs in the house. Did that actually mean that he was a recovering junkie avoiding temptation, or did it mean he didn’t want drugs in the house? Another home-owner with a room to let admitted to being a “neat-freak” who didn’t mind tidying up after people. Instead of sinking to my knees, begging her to take me in and clean for me, I had images of her chasing me round the flat with a feather-duster and wiping the coffee table every time I lifted my mug.
Another admitted that he wouldn’t be keen on “partying during the week”. What constitutes a party, I wondered? Would he be listening outside with a glass pressed against the door, ready to pounce at voices raised above a dull whisper? Finbar, a 40-year-old furniture designer, has been looking for two flatmates for the past two weeks, taking out adverts in newspapers and sitting around waiting for viewers who never turn up. He said: “It’s taken up loads of my time and it’s cost me loads of money. I know as soon as I talk to someone if I don’t want them to move in. Speed-flatmating is a brilliant idea. Even if nothing comes of it, it’s only a fiver and there’s a free pint in it.”
www.spareroom.co.uk
Split capital
A TWO-BEDROOM flat on the fourth floor of a period property close to Hyde Park and South Kensington Tube station. It costs £335 per week through Coutts de Lisle (020-7385 1555). For £395 a week, you can rent the three-bedroom house on Novello Street in Fulham, with a very large roof terrace, from FPDSavills (020-7731 9415).
