I thought that I'd start with a little background on Yours Truly so you can assess whether this is even worth your time. Of course, I'll do my best to persuade you to stay, only giving you the juiciest tid bits. Let's begin. Part I: The Roommates.
I moved to the City a month after I got my job, and commuting from the East Bay sucked! But, finding an apartment that I loved sucked even more. Let's just say there were places where I didn't even want to touch anything. Hello? Hepatitis, no thank you. Long, and I mean LONG story short, I moved into a great place in Pac Heights with two roommates that I thought would enhance the SF experience, two art school chicks that seemed pretty laid back, a real departure from the engineers I lived with in college. (Don't ask me how a liberal arts major ended up living with three hardcore math/science types, but they were awesome).
Anyway, three months after moving in, one roommate went crazy, and I'm not talking "God, stopping being such a bitch" crazy, I'm talking down a handle of gin, a bottle of champagne, mix with her new anti-anxiety meds and go comatose in a Coffee Bean all before 10:00 a.m. crazy. After some other shit, we had to commit her to the psych ward for 72 hour observation. She moved out the same month.
Four months later, guess who else goes crazy? The other roommate has this nervous breakdown, goes on the same anti-anxiety meds as the first chick and mixes them with too much alcohol. BTW, this roommate had four months to harness all this pent up hostility toward the new guy we brought into the apartment. So, we all go out separately for 4th of July and stagger in around 3:00 or 4:00. Around 5:00, Mr. J (the male roommate) walks by Ms. E's (the female roommate) room on the way to the bathroom. She is transitioning from reciting the alphabet as she rocks back and forth and scrolls through pictures on her computer to throwing her shoes all around the room. Mr. J tries to put her to bed, but she grows violent and starts cursing at him. An hour later, she pounds on his door and stabs under his door with a knife from the kitchen exclaiming that she wants to kill him. At one point she pounds on my door asking for a gun to shoot Mr. J. OMFG! She moves home soon after to get some therapy.
Talk later.
-Yours Truly
4 comments:
elephant juice!
man, it must have been AWESOME living with engineers in college.
oh my effing god! i didn't know it was THAT bad. that's some protection order shit right there! if you were in my town, i could hook you up with one =)
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