My life and times living ‘Bachelor style’ in a rundown house.
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If walls could talk. I remember the day I moved in, Jan 1st, 2000. I started the millennium by moving in with my old friend Adam. I packed what little I had in my car and my dad’s truck and set up my room. I must admit, the place was a dump. A Bachelor pad at it’s definitive ‘finest’: a dirty, smelly, rundown house, male inhabitants with a fridge full of nothing but ketchup and beer. It was the four of us, Adam, Chris, myself and the lady of the house, Jovanna ‘Jo Jo’ Lane. All of us had morning jobs at the time. We would battle for morning bathroom rights, sometimes by as little as a minute difference in alarm clocks. Sometimes it would be me who would have to wait. Trust me, I was not a pleasant camper. I will be honest, the first couple of months were a little hard to adjust. I always hated how loud that room was with noise from the kitchen, living-room, bathroom AND the washer. I also didn't like having to pay a phonebill since Chris was the only one using it to download songs during the glory days of Napster. He wasn't completely useless though, he was the only Preach to ever make it to, let alone, graduate from college. Chris was the accountant, he kept our bills in Excel files to keep them in check. He did our taxes and got a 50k a year job and decided to buy his own house leaving in October of 2000. Early the next year we got a temporary roommate, John ‘Fuzzy’ Risi stayed for three months while he got an apartment closer to his college. He slept little, if at all, soothing his frayed nerves with nice, fat honey blunts. Which he was kind enough to share. Of course, during all of this there were the usual visits from David & Kam. Adam used to rave and/or with them nearly every weekend. Those were definitely the glory days of the house, every damn weekend there would be oceans of alcohol and jungles of pot available. This carried on through most of my time there. There was of course, those less pleasant incidents. Adam losing his job and struggling to pay the Third Notice bills. He also took in a friend (much against my wishes). This loser, mike ringler, lived there for three months without rent or bills. Making Adam drive around to different strip clubs so he could get a bouncer job. Nevermind that he never once turned in an application. Mike wanted to 'work' by being in a porno with a she-male. That's right, a chick with a dick, something which he was not a stranger to. He was finally kicked out in Dec 2001, after I told Lane I'd be moving out if he didn't get rid of him. After that unpleasant experience, we both agreed we would be the only roommates in that house. That is how it stayed till I left. Adam and I became closer as friends. We went out more often to do whatever bachelor's do. This included mostly clubbin' and drinking. I took him to Anderson's, he took me to Freedom. We dabbled in recreational chemicals and philosophized over theories while on them. One morning, Adam woke me up from my sleep. He'd been on a binge for about a week and told me about the conversation he, god and satan had. In my half-awake state I wasn't sure if I believed him, but I believed he believed it. The stuff memories are made of, let me tell you. These are the thoughts that flashed through my mind as I packed each box. It's the people, not the building I told myself. The month I spent living alone really showed me that. It's just an empty shell if there isn't anyone around. Are memories made if there isn't anyone to appreciate them? Before I left, I had a moment with my room, I made a toast to it and hoped who ever lives there next has as much fun as I did. The myriad of nights when it seems nothing would ever change, until it did. The nights I would come home to Adam vegging out on ‘Real TV’ or ‘Star Trek’. We’d kick-back, smoke out and just shoot the shit about each other’s day. In the end what was it? Just a house-an ugly one at that. Still it was home, and I had my family: A finicky black car A smelly mutt scratching herself mercilessly in some corner. A Stoner with a fascination for pasta and Sci-Fi TV. And me, a wanna-be Goth coconut with a superiority complex. Many memories were made and shared in those walls. All I did was sublet a room in a rundown house, it wasn’t much but it was mine. And I’m going to miss Le Pimp Chateau greatly.
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