A Lack Of Judgement, But A Story For The Ages

Is there such a thing as a fresh start, or do old habits follow us no matter our location? So here I was in Orlando and six months into my “fresh start” I move again. I was willing to live anywhere at this point where my former roommates would not find me. But I failed at this social experiment as well. 

DO NOT MOVE IN WITH PEOPLE FROM CRAIGSLIST!

I lived in the ghetto near a park where a local woman was rapped and murdered while jogging.

A man dressed like a pimp often tried speaking to me whenever he saw me get out of my car. He said I was a lady, a real 100% lady and he could tell it just by looking at me. Said I spoke well and walked polite. And here I was thinking I spoke curtly and walked fast.

A woman dressed like a prostitute who called herself Sunshine once came to the door asking for my roommate. She kept reapplying bonnie-bell lip gloss and shifting her body weight from one hip to another. She’d flip her bleached orange hair around and spoke really seductively about how she had a business arrangement with my roommate. I never answered the door after that encounter. 

I had two roommates

The female roommate had conversations with her demonic dogs at three in the morning in a baby voice while blasting rap music. I once walked out into the living room to find her sweeping without any pants on. She drunk crashed her car into the garage. She tried to instruct me on a weekly basis the proper way to crush boxes down when I put them in the trash can. (I shortly there after got my own trash can and put garbage in it any way I damn well pleased). She wore a lot of Ed Hardy trucker hats and Spanish girl spandex fashions. She would leave pasta skillet meals rotting on the stove for weeks. She made a chore chart assigning me to clean up after her and the dogs; dogs that terrorized my existence, barked all night and day, and ruined several very cute outfits. 

The male roommate had loud porn style sounding sex with his girl of the week for hours at a time (when he knew I was home). His parole officer came to the house on a weekly basis. Why he was on parole in the first place no one would say.

I was going to write more about this but honestly, enough said.