Why do Russians love sitting in the kitchen so much?

I think this will be a shorter post on Russians sitting in the kitchen. That’s right, I am scraping the bottom of the blog barrel on this one!
Actually, this is just something that annoys me from time to time and as we know, half my blog posts are me ranting about ridiculous bullshit

                                                                     my next rage-inspired blog post

So, like I mentioned in previous posts, I live with two chicks. We all have our own rooms and a decent sized kitchen.
Now when I’m at home, I chill in my room, usually I eat in my room too since I’m usually watching some documentary about something online. Everyone else lives in the kitchen - possibly because there is a sofa there...
I have no idea what the attraction is.
Their rooms are pretty big but they have their laptops and all set up in the kitchen. When they have gosti (guests) round to visit, they have the music going and the door shut, like it's their own private entertainment room. Naturally, the only think that interrupts them is when I float in and out in my flamboyant leisure pants and Lenin slippers to make a cup of tea.

                                                                      You thought I was kidding?

Possibly there is something strange in that I don't like being in the kitchen, maybe I'm missing out. Now the actual point of this post it that about a month or so back there was a bit of a turf war in the kitchen between flatmates. 

Olga, one of the concubines I live with was on holiday for a while and her friend (along with her English boyfriend) came to live in her room for the time while she was away. I’m guessing because they didn’t want to pay for a hotel, can’t say I blame them.
Anyway, even though he was English, together they made one of the most passionate kitchen-sitting couples I ever met.
Every day I would come home and they'd be in there, cooking up a storm and duel skyping. 

As usual, I waltz in and out, exchanging a bit of banter on the way with the English guy about how stuff is too expensive, while throwing in a couple of sexist jokes to forge our male bond.

Anyway, these guys never left the kitchen, which brought them into conflict with my other, slightly crazy flatmate. Clearly two people can’t be sitting in there and doing their own thing, one cooking, the other one skyping and the third trying to blast out some music. 
I actually enjoyed this situation, seeing as how I was out of the picture. Walking in to the kitchen to hear the English guy chatting away super loud on skype, his girlfriend joining in and crazy flat mate sat opposite, pumping out shit music. it was ridiculous geopolitics on a kitchen-sized scale.

I enjoyed her annoyance. Every time she came home, they'd be in there cooking and making noise. Having people in a common space like the kitchen all the time can get annoying and for once, the queen kitchen sitter and gosti-inviter was tasting some of that sweet irony.    

Also, this 'crazy' flatmate sometimes has sex in there, no joke. It’s a good thing it's late enough that I don't fancy a cup of tea or anything, otherwise shit could get awkward (or, I could join in and it would be great, but in the morning, after taking an endless shower to wash away the shame, things would, inevitably, get back to being award). 

                                                                           hello again, old friend...

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