In a recent dream, I was sharing a bathroom with Andrew Eldritch, of
the Sisters of Mercy.  We may have been housemates, I think, but he never
talked to me.  My biggest complaint was that he was ALWAYS in the bathroom
-- probably doing his make-up or indulging himself with recreactional
depressants.  I didn't have a problem with his personal habits, execept in
the mornings, when I had to pound on the door to get him to come out of
the bathroom.  He'd generally get out of the bathroom after about
five minutes of my constant hammering on the door.  And of course, he wore
his opaque sunglasses in the bathroom.  When he emerged, I could tell that he
was giving me a dirty look through the sunglasses, although I never actually saw his eyes.