Get ridiculously lost trying to find my (very central and easy to find) house and in the process make a number of mildly pointless phonecalls during which you persist in telling me "I int got a clue where I am or where you are either".
Use my loo ( Fine if you were working here for a little while but you were in my home for 45 seconds!)
Call me 'mate'. I am not your mate. You came to my home, dropped off some flatpack shelving and left. Call me anything, anything, but not mate.
Make odd comments about the pictures on my walls!
Be scarily reminiscent of Neil from The Inbetweeners.
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