This is imported from the forums, and gets a warm new home here in the Q and A format.

Question from Hilbelle:
I am currently sharing my living quarters with a very presentable and well-mannered male German who speaks boarding school English and has impeccably preppy taste in clothes. He is generally very respectful with my things, and has never manifested any notable peculiar quirks, but last night I came home quite late and was using the bathroom before bed and I noticed in the bidet (it’s a toilet-level sink that people in Europe use to soak tired feet) there was a copy of the most recent New Yorker (which I had not yet taken out of its plastic cover) as well as two half-eaten packets of crackers. Obviously there was no water in the bidet at the time, yet I found the location of these items to be slightly disturbing and not a little bit curious.
How should I approach this situation? I do not want to come across as anything other than the easy-going and relaxed (I am from California) kind of girl that I falsely present myself as, but I do live in Europe where the cover price for a New Yorker is $9 and I don’t really like to think of them ending up (or in this case, starting out) in the bidet. Also: where do the crackers fit in? I’ve heard Germans can have a rather dark side: is there something shady going on? Shall I find another arrangement?

Answer from Nica:

Dear Hilbelle

Following in the steps Bruce Lionhart’s “fallacy of the undistributed middle” logic, I have to start out by saying that since the New Yorker (the abused property in question) does not have an advice column, it follows that your cracker-eating, feet-soaking, publication-abusing roommate would not welcome any advice with regard to his understanding of personal property, or his notions of appropriate locales for processed foods and the printed word. Of course, it is completely understandable that the situation is frustrating to you on a psychological and financial level.

As far as dealing with your roommates, your options are:

1) The passive-aggressive approach: “______! (insert some German agglutinative swear word here). My magazine got all wet. And it has all these crumbs in it. I don’t know how this could have happenned!” This could be augmented by guilt-tripping either via “the martyr framework” (i.e. “Stuff like this always happens to me. It’s like the time I bought the first edition of “Alice In Wonderland” off of Ebay, and these pigeons I was feeding shat all over it”) or “the saint framework” (i.e. “Well, I guess I can’t read it now, since the pages are all stuck together and it smells of feet. There go my plans for the evening. I was planning to take a candlelit bath with my New Yorker, but now I won’t. I guess I will make you cupcakes instead. Do you like chocolate?”). This could be effective, but could also backfire in a number of different ways–a) making him think you are psycho or b) beaming at you and telling you that yes, he would love some cupcakes.

2) The falsely ignorant, non-confrontational approach: “Have you seen my copy of The New Yorker? I haven’t even opened it yet, and I don’t know where it went.” This is constructive, because he will be forced to reveal its location, and hopefully saying out loud “it’s in the bidet” will resonate with him as a bit weird, and will become a lesson learned for the future.

3) The subtle confrontational approach, which addresses the issue but downplays the “leaving the $9 magazine in the fucking bidet” part: “I don’t mind if you borrow my New Yorker, but you have to wait till I am done reading it first.” This will alert him to the fact that you noticed his transgression, and that he did something wrong, but it will not conflict with your identity as an easy-going person, especially if you say it casually and light-heartedly.

4) The direct confrontational approach: “I was in the bathroom and noticed that my New Yorker was in the bidet. Can you please not leave it there in the future?” This would also work but could put him on the defensive, so this approach has to be practiced with the most gentle, friendly demeanor possible.

5) Fighting fire with fire. Misplace his things. Leave them in inappropriate places. Put his slippers into the fridge. Unplug his laptop, and plug it in instead of the toaster in the kitchen. Put two slices of wonderbread with cheese on top in between the keyboard and the screen; if he asks what you are doing, tell him you are making a grilled cheese sandwich. This will demonstrate to him, through a hyporbolic exaggeration, that his behavior is shady and insane. Of course, it can also backfire by a) disorienting him and driving him crazy, much like Ingrid Bergman in “Gaslight” or b) making him think that you are psycho (albeit in a different way than 1-A).

And in conclusion, a moralistic coda: good roommates are born, not made, and it does not sound like he is part of that species. At the same time, trading a questionable roommate for an unknown one is a big gamble that should be approached keeping in mind “the devil you know” adage. Otherwise, you might end up with a roommate that uses your New Yorker for toilet paper, or one that sleepwalks and plays the Theramin ((badly) personal experience), or one that speaks in tongues and projectile vomits, or one who will do his own reinterpretation of Trading Spaces and will turn your house into a crack den. I’m just sayin’. If you get along fine with this guy, the cracker-magazine-bidet notwithstanding, talk to him. Just because you are not totally zen about him mishandling your property, does not mean you are not easygoing. Best of luck.

Nica