The shit blog of Paul Chris Jones

I once lived in a hostel for a few months. Here are ten types of people I met. I think there's ten. There might be less. There might be more. I haven't bothered to count to be honest.

The Drinkers

Drinkers are drunk in the afternoon. 99% are Australian. They play weird drinking games like "Ring of Fire" and "Fuzzy duck". Do not approach them. If they talk to you, just shake your head and smile politely. Pretend you don't speak English. Pretend your name's Bekzat and you come from Kazahkstan. Otherwise, they'll rope you into their game and you'll find yourself shitfaced on vodka at 2 pm with an Ace of Spades playing card stuck to your forehead.

The Long Termer

The Long Termer has stayed so long at the hostel that they're practically living there. (Me.) They have their own room and they own luxuries like an iron and a drying rack. (Not me, as I never got an iron or a drying rack.) It's rumoured they do something at the hostel but no one knows what. If you ask them, they'll give a vague answer like, "I clean and fold the sheets every day and then put them away". "What are these mysterious sheets?" you say, and they say "The bedsheets," pointing to the tray of dirty laundry next to reception. "Bedsheets? For what purpose are these bedsheets?" you say, and they say, "For putting on beds." It's all highly suspicious. As I said, vague answers, nothing more.

The Old People

There's always one old person in every hostel. Sometimes they're as old as thirty, if you can believe that. When you turn thirty they should euthanise you, like in Logan's Run. Can you imagine staying in a hostel at the age of thirty? "Where're my false teeth Maud" "I don't know Ethel, did you have them when you playing beer pong?" "Oooh, I don't know, but I had them when I snogging that sexy young Australian fella". If you're still alive by thirty then you should be in a care home, not a hostel. It's a disgrace.

The Young People

Even worse than old people are young people. They stay in their little cliques, wearing clothes from Gap and talking about things, usually Gap. Over time it seems they get younger and younger until finally one day you're sitting at the breakfast table talking to a baby.

The Internet Addict

The Interner Addict spends all day on his laptop, eyes glued to the screen. No matter what's going on around him - a discussion, a party, nuclear war - he'll never take his attention away from his laptop screen.

The Newbie

Never stayed in a hostel before? Then you're a Newbie. It's okay, everyone's been the Newbie once. You can tell a newbie because they sit at the common room table nervously watching other guests. Probably sleeps with a teddy bear and says goodnight to his mum via Skype.

Criminal

Sometimes there's a man in the hostel with a long criminal history. Belongings are liable to go missing around him, so don't leave your laptop out. "Hey mate," he says. (He calls you his 'mate' but it's just a trick to try to befriend you so he can 'borrow' money from you later.) "Do you know where I can buy drugs?"

The Stunner

Heads turn. People stare at the woman walking past. She's more beautiful than Venus.

You fall to the floor, clutching your chest, and scream out, "I love you!"

The only problem? She already has a boyfriend. And he's just as good-looking as she is.

Oh well. There's always the hope they'll invite you for a threesome.

The Legend

Like Hercules performing the twelve labours, The Legend is a hostel guest who performs impossible feats, most of them involving alcohol. For example: downing an entire bottle of Jagermeister in one go; falling into a puddle of his own sick and getting back up again; surviving alcohol poisoning; pulling two women (twin sisters) in a nightclub, taking them home and fucking each of them in turn in the bunk bed above yours at two in the morning, forcing you to listen to the squeaks of the bed and their moaning.

The Stalker

"Who's that guy?"

"Oh, him? I don't know? I think he's new here."

"I don't like the way he's staring at us."

"Yeah, it's pretty creepy."

That night, as you brush your teeth, there he is in the mirror. You scream and clutch your towel around your waist. There he is, at the door, watching you. He never blinks.