There is a horrible trend I've been unfortunately witnessing for the past couple of years, which just keeps getting worse and worse..
It seems every woman I've roomated with always has some fucked up guy who is making their lives, and the lives of the unlucky people who are around them, unbearable. It's always a drug habit or alcohol problem; it's always about him thinking it's his house cause she lets him stay there and fuck her and eat shit. Maybe he paid a phone or cable bill one month and that entitles him to be a dick cause now it's HIS house and he's paying the bills..
Had my ex-best friend over the summer decide she's going to hook up with a multiple Schedule I drug addicted, gay escort, drug dealing Satanist and allowed him to bring all of his sick bullshit into her life and home. Then she decided that he needs to be accepted by her family while they are focused on the fact that her father is dying of cancer. She brings this asshole to the hospital while the family is trying to hold it together, and the sick freak has a tantrum IN THE HOSPITAL cause the family doesn't like him. Could it be that he couldn't get through Thanksgiving ONE HOUR before he had to run out to sniff? What's most distressing about this sick relationship is that a supposedly intelligent woman felt that she could control this guy and it wound up being the opposite.
PLUS the fact that she LIKES the Satanist stuff and even went so far as to make a "love charm" for this guy with a lock of her hair...Even if you don't believe in those things, who the hell could be that stupid? Now her family is pissed at her and don't want anything to do with her as long as she insists on forcing people to deal with a psycho just cause she's too weak and stupid to rid herself of him. She's even trying to have a baby with him (after having had aborted the last one not less than 6 months ago, combined with the fact that she's having unprotected sex with a drug addicted gay escort..)
Fleeing that situation, I rent a room from a quiet, nice Dominican lady. For a few months, it's cool..the neighbors are retards that think it's ok to blast merengue at top volume at 4am on a Tuesday cause everyone else does, right? But the house is clean, for the most part, quiet, and we are both working women who value peace. My homeboy comes to visit and is very respectful and she is great about it. Then one day I come home and her ex-husband is in the house without her. The door is not locked and he's drunk off his ass. I don't mean tipsy, I mean shitfaced, ossified drunk. He can't stand straight and his eyes are swimming unfocused in his head. I guess he took a shine to me cause he starts asking me where my boyfriend is and have I been working out. Execept be barely speaks English and he's invading my personal space. So I have to become Hard Core Dreadlock Warrior Woman and stare him down so he knows what the deal is. She speaks little english and has no idea what he's saying. I have to wait till the next morning to tell this fuck never to step to me again. I even write the lady a letter in spanish telling her what went down and how it can't become a habit or I have to leave. A week later, her whole 8 member family moves back from the Domincan Republic into a 2 bedroom apartment cause Papi called home and told them the nigger in the house spoke out of turn to him.
So I flee to my current situation. A seemingly intelligent 50 year old black woman who has a junky house, but a large room for rent. She said she worked from home and she just seemed messy, but I can clean my space so what the hell, right? The day I go to look at the apartment (after being sent to see some real horror story places), and she has a young Puerto Rican boyfriend chilling on the couch. Whatever..none of my business..
I knew something was wrong when I was due to move in on a Saturday and she cancels and tells me she had a death in the family and is on LI. Doesn't offer a solution, I just can't move in. And she has to be back in LI on Monday. The next day I move in and she never again mentions the death. Red flag #1. Monday comes and goes and I realize no one has died, she lied. That night I also find out that she has a coke habit that she will make painfully obvious by geeking out for the next three days straight. No job or work, all you hear is sniffing and her walking through the house all night singing and talking to herself. At the apex of this binge, she knocks on the door Fri night, standing there in nothing but a tee shirt and coke all over her nose and face, railing out her mind, telling me how cool I am, and if I wanna party, go for it. She did so much coke that for the following 3 days, she is sick and sleeping and embarrassed. So she tried to make me feel comfortable by promising that will never happen again and for a few days, we get back on track..
Until last night when we are both home chilling after work and someone starts banging on the door. It's PR boyfriend. Then the sick shit begins with her knocking on my door to tell me her man is staying over, but he's drunk, ok? That old sinking feeling creeps in and I know what I'm in for. Of course, it starts coming down to "This is my fucking house and I pay the bills...." They start fighting and yelling and I tell her I no longer feel comfortable having a person like him in the house overnight and she turns to me and says she's sorry but she can't fight him to get him out, and fuck that, he's not leaving, all indignant and ghetto..
Her cousin and his wife live down the hall and they knew what the deal was and offered their help should anything "happen". I go there pissed off and needing to know just what the hell I'm dealing with. I get handed a big knife and told to do something spiritual to calm my energy. What the fuck...
By now, I feel like a refugee who has to pick up and flee again. I get back in the house and now they are fighting again and she calls the cops and LEAVES THE APARTMENT to wait for the cops, locking me in the house with this drunk belligerent man who's yelling to someone on the phone. I decide that if anything is going down, I'm gonna have to Kill Bill-it and confront dude before he gets any ideas. He's in the living room, drunk and smoking a butt, and I go right up to him and break it down. "I don't know you, bro, but this shit is none of my business. If the cops come up here, I ain't involved". Dude starts trying to plead his case TO ME about how fucked up she is and that's why he don't want to come around anymore. So now, I gotta play fucking relationship counselor?!? "I don't give a fuck..I pay rent here to live in peace, not to get in the middle of total strangers bullshit. " I basically used the tactic of "Hey dude, if the cops throw you outta here, don't come looking to fuck up my shit. If they hassle you, take that shit up with your woman and leave me and my shit in peace". Surprisingly, he paused and said "'Ight, boo..you don't have to say nuthin' else. You can go back in your room, I got it. " Cool. The cops come, there's drama and yelling and he goes. She's all apologetic and ashamed, and being that I am very compassionate, I tell her it's ok and get some rest.
But I can't do this anymore. I lived alone for 11 years and all was great UNTIL my house got broken into by an ex-boyfriend (I wasn't there when it happend, thank god), and made me realize that being a solitary woman, as liberating as it is, has some very serious drawbacks. You sacrifice being in a relationship cause you know you have things that have to be accomplished that no man can accomplish for you. You learn to like solitude cause it helps you get in touch with yourself and what you are about. But you are a target because there is no man there to "protect" you. All the independence in the world won't stop some sick fuck from trying to break in and rape you. And unless you happen to be Beatrix Kiddo from Kill Bill and are nice with a sword, you have to live with the real fear that just being a woman living alone is dangerous.
You realize that the only option you have, besides finding someone to take care of you, is to make alot of money to insure you live safely. That's what it takes. You wanna be independent and safe at the same time? Well, you're gonna have to pay for it. You're gonna pay for it if you DON'T have money, so you might as well shell out the dough. Especially in NYC. You want a safe quiet place of your own with security downstairs? Be ready to pay minimum $1200 a month for a closet with a bed. It's either that or your spend your energy desparate to find a husband so your don't have to work and have "security". For a woman like me, that's about as unrealistic as waiting for your prince to come.
I heard today that Desparate Housewives (which is just Sex in the City in the Suburbs) is the highest rated show on the air. Bored stupid white bitches with too much time and money fucking around on their husbands cause security got too boring for them. There needs to be a show called Endangered Single Women and the reality of what that really means.
I'll let you know when I have the first draft ready...
