Because, we were getting evicted

Because, we were getting evicted from that really nice little house that Carolyn had on the corner of Thurlow and Davie I decided to make up some fliers looking room mates to help us pay the outstanding rent.

I went to the community center down in the middle of Vancouver's west end, the one with the little used clothing store I use to frequent and sat down at one of the free computers for use on the ground floor. I opened up the Wordpad program and began to think out the wording of my ad.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that the computer station beside me had suddenly been occupied by some strange person who really seemed more intent on reading what I was writing about on Wordpad than anything else he should have been doing besides obviously watching me.

I was quite use to this by now, having spent the better half of the last three years smoking copious quantities speed daily and noticing more and more how the people of Vancouver seemed to be following me a lot. I was getting quite good at ignoring it, the paranoia when it seemed appropriate. But, at the same time I always knew that it was true. These people, these weird little creeps, liked to follow me because I was so high all the time.

So, using the knowledge I learned in business college about word processing programs I crafted quite the nice little advertisement soliciting shared living arrangements to save the rent in our little heritage house on Davie street. All the while ignoring the peeping tom beside me while he watched me type getting more and more in a huff about something. I knew what it was. He was angry because I knew how to write a nice, professional ad. He was angry because I knew how to read. That's how petty this was in the end between me and the populace of Vancouver BC.

And, I reveled in it. I loved it. Always showing these people up who like to bother me with their time.

I typed it. After a long time dealing with the volunteer staff at the counter, who didn't like me either, because I was so stoned all the time when I was shopping upstairs, I finally printed a few copies and then I left. I went back to my gorgeous heritage house full of drug addicts smoking crystal meth and peeking out the windows of my house in the heart of one of down town Vancouver's most prestigious little neighborhoods.

I didn't post any of my ads. Not yet, I wanted to show them to Carolyn first and run this plan by her. We have to get rid of all the homeless crystal meth bums that had invaded the house. Carolyn let them all in when she was high, even though I had warned that crystal meth will make her feel quite charitable to all her 'new' crystal meth friends. But, please don't allow them to ever spend the night here because these are homeless run aways and bums who will never leave again if you do. And, that is what had happened. She started letting them stay overnight and now we had about thirty of them revolving around the house on a full time basis and not one of them paying the rent.

But, Carolyn was not home when I got back from trying to do something remotely responsible about the house. So, I had to wait.

And, then later on about seven o'clock in the evening, Carolyn was still gone, I had not posted any of my room mate wanted ads anywhere but only on the screen of that computer while I was being watched by some fucking troll, down at the community center, the doorbell rang.

I opened the door. There was a drunken, stinking, derelict bum who must have been dragged from an alley somewhere by the promise of a quick twenty bucks standing there.

He said, 'I heard, you were renting rooms'.

cont...