Blown to Bits

Well, it's all over folks. While part of me is disappointed I won't be able to use my personal drama as writing inspiration, I'm very relieved that the end to it all is in sight.

I'll give you a brief rundown of the events over the weekend. A personal highlight for me was getting kicked out of the bowling alley, which has absolutely nothing to do with ex-Roommate. For me, getting actually kicked out of anywhere is ridiculous, but especially a bowling alley. How embarrassing. I lost my ID several weeks ago. I have not replaced it yet because that means I have to go to the DMV and deal with that nightmare. And yes, I'm a procrastinator of the highest degree so I'll be surprised if I have a new ID by summer. The problem is I'm 31 and could easily pass for 16. And where we live I don't really need an ID anymore. Everyone knows who I am and I'm on first-name basis with practically every bartender in our town. Except in the bowling alley.

So I go up to the bar with Husband and the bartender asks for our ID's. There is a sign posted over the bar that clearly states they won't serve anyone without a scannable ID. I told her my dilemma and she very rudely told me that she can't serve me. I responded, politely, that it was no big deal, I'd seen the sign and not to worry about it. We had a group of seven, all of whom were drinking beers. So while we were bowling, and without really thinking about it, I was drinking Husband's beer and probably other people's too. I think now is the time to mention that I'd had a couple of shots of tequila before we left. So we're into our second frame, had just started it actually, and the owner I guess he was came over to me and said, "You don't have ID to be drinking here." The way he said it was kind of framed like a question so I said, "I lost it. I told the bartender that." He said, "If you don't have ID you can't drink." Then our friend KB chimed in, "Dude, she's 31 years old, she's okay." And I said, "I'm not trying to screw you dude. I'm legal, I just lost my ID." And then the owner got kinda pissed and said something like I needed to stop drinking since I didn't have ID, maybe threatened to kick me out at that point. Well, Husband came over to find out what was going on and when he found out he said, "Forget it. We're done. We're leaving. We just spent a grip here and they're trying to give you shit now? Forget it." So we packed up our stuff, stopped our game and went to the counter to return our shoes. As we were standing there, KB was attempting, again, to politely explain to the owner that I was legal and they were really making a big deal over nothing. Our friend Kevin, visiting from out of town, another friend and I were talking about what happened and the bartender lady, who as it turns out is also an owner, came over to where we were standing. Apparently she didn't like what she was overhearing because she snapped, "Do you want me to call the cops right now?" I snapped right back, though not rudely, "Go ahead and call them. I'm not doing anything wrong. They can pull my license number and check my age." That's when the bartender lady actually came unglued and spewed, "I want you out now!" So I left.

I guess the moral of the story is don't argue with bowling alley owners, they'll kick you right out.

So ex-Roommate got released from the hospital and stopped by the house on Sunday to collect some of his things. Now, I've been under the impression the whole time that he understands that he's moving out. And I learned some things over the weekend that have transformed my anger into abject hate. The short version is that he's talking shit about me to Husband, actual shit. I mean, you can guess right? I'm an evil bitch, I overreact about everything, I'm disrupting the "vibe" of the house, etc. In addition he's stolen money from us that he's said we'll never get back. So fuck him.

Anyway, he got to the house on Sunday and informed us of the following, "Yeah, I'm probably going to move out. I don't feel comfortable here anymore."

I'm thinking to myself as he's saying it, yeah no shit. If I had talked as much shit about the people in this room and stolen from them, I probably wouldn't feel very comfortable either. But also I'm thinking, probably, what are you talking probably? You're GONE!

A few minutes later he informed us that he probably wouldn't have his stuff out by the first, hopefully by the fifth.

Wait just a second, I thought, you're going to tell us when you'll have your things out? Huh uh. How 'bout we'll give you a date and that's when you'll have it out or it's out on the street.

But did I say any of these things? No, my friends, I did not. I held my tongue so as not to make things worse and continued playing my game of Clue. I was playing with other people, not just by myself.

Well, Husband and Roommate have been exchanging messages and with each one Husband has gotten progressively more angry. Last night Husband called him because we found out that Frankie had let ex-Roommate inside while we weren't there to get some things. Not only did he get some things out of the bedroom, but he went downstairs and collected some plants, which he also took. Not cool. So he stole from us again, first money now plants. It's getting better all the time, no?

So Husband called him to basically ask him what the fuck. Well, as you can imagine, it escalated quickly to a shouting match, which escalated even further to ex-Roommate telling Husband these exact words, "Fuck you you piece of shit, I never want to see your face again." That just pissed Husband off even more. And in the midst of his rage I wondered aloud, then when will he be collecting the rest of his belongings? So Husband called back to ask him just that and ex-Roommate, all puffed up now, said he'd be bringing a gang of people over to get it. Now, if we though for a minute that ex-Roommate had a gang of people to bring over we might have been a bit worried. But we know he doesn't. We were his gang. But just that he said that was enough to get Husband in the bedroom packing everything up. Thankfully we had some friends over, per usual, and everyone helped us pack up his shit and put it outside.

And outside is where it remains this morning. Yes, Husband covered it all with a tarp when it was clear that ex-Roommate's posse either had previous engagements or were, in fact, non-existent.

There's still the matter of the money, but I have a feeling we'll be eating that. It's sucko, but I guess it could have been worse. I'm still trying to process it all and figure out what went wrong. Living with friends is difficult, though it can be done effectively. I wouldn't have pegged ex-Roommate for the kind of guy to steal from people though. I guess maybe I need to get a better character reader installed.

But that's it. That part of the drama is over, for now. Now we can move on to bigger and better things. You'll be able to read all about the chess games and Risk games. I'll give you the play-by-play action. Very exciting. Just kidding. Now that my head will be more clear I will entertain you with my travel stories perhaps.

Everyday is a new day, with new possibilities, new adventures and new stories.