MREs and Nuremberg

Last night at the Possum Hilton wasn't too bad; even though it was cold and uncomfortable (as always), at least, courtesy of my friend Kyle, I had a hot meal. Kyle had a case or two of MREs left over from Gustav, which he had offered to give me. I worked until midnight last night, and he gave them to me. Of course, I couldn't carry a whole case with me, but I snaked two of them and put the rest on top of the lockers upstairs. What I will do is grab one or two when I need them and take them with me.

For those of you who have never experienced an MRE (in South Louisiana, after Katrina, Hugo, Gustav and Ike, we are all too familiar with them)or, "Meal, Ready to Eat", they are self-contained meals, featuring an entree, a dessert, a snack and usually some fruit or beans, along with cold and hot drink mixes, matches and toilet paper (of sort). The package contains a chemical self-heater, which is activated by water, and will get your entree and coffee quite hot. I had ravioli, a brownie and pineapple. I stashed another MRE (believe it or not, "omelet") at the PH, for later.

I went by work before noon and cashed my check and got a bottle of chardonnay. I have a reservation at La Quinta for three o'clock, and I am off until three tomorrow, so I will get a shower (probably two) get to watch TV and (hopefully) spend some time online. I will also eat over at Mestizo's, which is a Mexican Restaurant next door, with great margaritas. That is my plan for "hotel day". I texted Travis and asked if he and Fernando wanted to join me for dinner, but they are going to the State Fair, instead. Of course, it is back to the PH again tomorrow night, but I do have an MRE and a movie I can watch. At least, for tonight, I have reasonable shelter.

A friend told me to call United Way; that they might be able to recommend resources to me, as far as shelter. I am still trying to track down the heretofore elusive (and possibly mythical) $75-per-week rooming house "near the Capitol" that I was told about. Baton Rouge does not seem to have any rooming houses or resident hotels that I have been able to locate (except for the Alamo Plaza, which is a notorious crack venue). I am going to spend some time tomorrow in search of residence, even if I have to physically ride around downtown and look.

When I got to work, I was confronted by a member of management who wanted to know exactly why I closed last night I said, "Because I was told to. I was asked if I could stay until midnight, and I said 'yes', and I did." It seems somebody noticed that I had 6 hours of overtime and had apoplexy. I was only following orders. I just realized: that excuse didn't exactly work at Nuremberg ...

Anyway, I get hotel night tonight. Yay. I will spend a lot of time online tonight researching ways out of my current predicament. That is what I am doing now, besides writing this blog. I will check out Craig's List and any other sites I can find. I have been doing this almost daily, besides looking in the classified section of the paper. There has to be a way out of this ... I just have to keep looking.

Bacon and a Shower

So, like most Wednesdays, today I am broke again (until tomorrow). Maybe I can borrow a few bucks from K. I can ask, anyway: he comes in this afternoon, and I work at 2. Tomorrow is Hotel Day. I can hardly wait.

It was FUCKING COLD last night, at the Possum Hilton. I think it was about 36 degrees. I was writing on my latest work when the power went out, all over the neighborhood. Everything went black, except for my laptop screen. People came out of their apartments and started screaming like idiots (it's a college neighborhood). Then, the power came back on.

This morning, I went by Travis' apartment (which is, like, mere feet away) and got to take a shower. That was the first shower I have had since Sunday. I hate being dirty. It is one of the worst things about being homeless (and believe me, that is a long list). Went by the store to check my schedule, and there were some fresh bacon samples in the deli, so I snagged some for breakfast. I scrounged up about a buck's worth of change from my backpack, so I have enough for a drink, when I get to work. Hopefully, I can borrow a few bucks from K., so I can eat later.

Right now, I am sitting at CC's. I didn't have enough money for coffee, which makes me feel a little guilty, but I drink coffee here all the time (like, every day), so I don't feel that guilty about not buying anything today, even though I will be here for the next couple of hours. I have to be somewhere, and this isn't so bad. I can go online, blog and write.

I have tried and tried to delete Civilization IV from my machine, so that I can re-install it. It stopped working after I downloaded a patch for it about a month ago, and it hasn't worked since. I can't quite seem to get rid of all the files, and the damned installer won't install the thing again until I get rid of them. This pisses me off, because I love the game, and I could pass a few good nights at the PH, playing it. This is very frustrating. I have tried to get hold of Firaxis Games, but to no avail. They don't list an e-mail address for tech support. If anybody out there has Civ IV, DON'T INSTALL THE UPDATE PATCH: your game will stop working.

I decided to only have one Hotel Day per week: otherwise, I will not be able to save any money. I can't count on Bridget, obviously, to pay me anything any time soon, so I'm going to just have to save the money for an apartment without her paying me back. I figure this could take 8-10 weeks, if I really scrimp and don't spend any money, and it is going to get awfully cold at the PH by that time. Still haven't been able to locate any rooms for rent, but I will look around some more this week. That would be a lot better option than hotels and he PH.

Guess that's about it for now. Not much to talk about today, I guess. I hope I can scrape up the money to eat tonight: I am hungry.

C'est la Vie

Well, went to work and actually worked an extra hour and fifteen minutes, so no-one was mad because I was late. Sasha didn't show up for work in the liquor department, so I spent an hour in there so that Catherine could take her meal break and work Sasha's shift. I can't believe all these people who don't show up for work! I'm not upset about it, because it gives me 40 hours a week, when I pick up their shifts. Hey, I'm homeless: what the hell else do I have to do all day? My schedule is eminently flexible. If I stay late, it's a few more hours of air conditioning (or heating ... it is cold out tonight!) I get to enjoy, with indoor plumbing and food and drink available, provided I have enough money to pay for it.
Sure enough, I had a fucking thief come in! I hate fucking thieves! I mean, I am as poor as any of these guys: I don't even have a place to live, and I don't fucking steal! These lousy ratfucking scumbags just take whatever they want, whenever they want it. I don't care if the stuff they steal doesn't belong to me, the very fact that they take it chaps my ass!

This was a typical one. He was black, forty-something, unshaven and smelly, with a huge beer gut and a stained baseball cap. He was riding a ragged out cheap-ass trail bike. He stuffed two bottles of Absolut Peach in his pants and started out the door. I stopped him and said, “You want to give me back my vodka before you leave?” He said, “What vodka?” I said, “The fucking vodka hanging out of your fucking pants, you fucking moron!”
He pushed past me and went outside. I called for security and followed him outside, where he proceeded to mount his bike (next time, I'm commandeering the bike!). He said, “You can't touch me: it's illegal!” I laughed at him and said, “You fucking ass! Stealing our vodka is what's illegal!” He said, “I come in here like this.” I said, “I saw you steal it, you fat, lying sack of shit!”
Unfortunately, he rode away before management showed up, and I am strictly not allowed to detain shoplifters, or I could lose my job. Apparently, Gardeshia (who used to work in liquor, but has moved on to a better job) used to bust him all the time, and the only time he would come in was when her car wasn't in the lot. She used to stop shoplifters all the time and get the stuff back from them, too, but I know I couldn't get away with it: I am too male and too white. One of these days, though, if there are no witnesses, and we are not in sight of a security camera ... hey: it would be his word against mine.

So, tonight, I made it to Serrano's. Unfortunately, the WiFi is down, and I can't get a good enough signal from The Chimes, next door, to keep a connection, so I'm writing this in OpenOffice, and I'll blog it tomorrow on the way to work, probably at CC's. There are a few good things: half-price margaritas (I'm on number two), guacamole, and a table full of fresh chicken, right next to me. One is the sweetest little thing, in a black hoodie, with honey-blond hair and soft brown eyes. Yum. His buddy in the orange ball cap ain't bad, either.
Sunday, Travis told me that he was lacking only Alaska and Hawaii to complete his State Quarters collection. Today, I got an Alaska quarter in change, so I texted him and asked if he'd trade me the use of his shower tomorrow for it. He hasn't gotten back to me. I am hoping he will, so I can get a shower before work. I hate going around dirty, and hotel day isn't until Thursday. I am going to try to hold myself down to one hotel day a week: I'll never save any money, otherwise. Fresh sheets, AC, TV and a shower are so alluring, though. It's so hard to resist, especially when I haven't had a shower in days, and my neck hurts from sleeping on the plywood at the PH. I'm naming the rat “Dick”, BTW, in honor of our (soon to be ex-!) VP. I'm probably insulting him (the rat, I mean).
Just found out it is not half-price margaritas tonight ... good thing, before I ordered another one and overspent my budget. As it is, I am only going to leave the waiter a dollar tip, which makes me feel bad, but I am in here a lot, and the next time he waits on me, I will tip him double. Maybe I can borrow $20 from Travis tomorrow. A shower would be a good thing, too. It may be Thursday before I can get online again. Oh, well, C'est la vie.

Possum Hilton Redux

This evening, as most, finds yours truly at the Possum Hilton. Worked a shift for a girl who complained that she only got three days off a week. Go figure. If you haven't figured out that I use the phrase “go figure” a lot, you don't know me. I say it a lot. What it means is: here is something to think about that I have thought about, so, let me know what you think about it, because maybe we have come to the same conclusion. Whenever I write anything, that is what this phrase means.

Back at the PH! Yay! I just discovered more interesting things about my surroundings. Let me describe them to you (you, who may not even exist, if this blog is never read by anyone else): there is a space, which used to be a garage for two cars. There is an apartment above it. The foundation for the upstairs apartment is mostly of cinderblock. {here, there is a Strange Interlude}.

STRANGE INTERLUDE:

The winds howl outside ... I feel the chill, from the North ... always from the North ...

I hear a mad scrambling, in the walls, behind me ... could it be ...?

A rat! A rat! Could it be Dick Cheney? No, I reassure myself: it has no Secret Service detail with it, only a single, ropy, ratty tail, like that of a possum . It is fat, fat with the richness of a thousand billionaire bailouts! It waddles, bloated with amortizations, blathering excuses while it wields the whip without mercy. Its tail is scabrous, strangely ... not unlike that of an opossum ... then, BLACKNESS!

END OF STRANGE INTERLUDE.

So, not only do I have a possum as a roommate, but there is (at least) one rat, too. It appears to be a common black rat ( Rattus rattus) and not its larger and more aggressive cousin, the brown rat (Rattus norvegicus). I hope it doesn't carry the Plague. I would really hate to be Patient Zero for the coming pandemic. Of course, if I survived, there would be the book rights and the inevitable movie "based on a true story". Maybe I could get Whitley Streiber to ghost it for me.

It was cold last night, in the PH, when I was writing my Strange Interlude. I had a bottle of chardonnay to keep me warm, but I would rather have had a roaring fire. That isn't really practical at the PH, as there is no fireplace. I've got to get on the landlord about that; that and the lack of a jacuzzi, wet bar and continental breakfast (a free one: not the Courtyard by Marriot sneaky I'll-just-tack-that-onto-your-account-shall-I? type). All hotels should have free continental breakfasts, and free Depends for incontinental breakfasts.

I texted Travis to see if I could borrow their shower this AM, but he was at the library, so it will be a quick sponge bath in the employee rest room at work for me. I probably won't get another shower until Thursday which is "hotel day". I live for "hotel days" and Sundays with Travis and Fernando: I really don't do anything else for fun.

Watched the rest of Iron Man last night. Stan Lee is sure getting his props these days. If you think about it, Iron Man was kind of prescient: it was the first idea I can recall of augmented human systems, which robotics has been pursuing ever since, and which have actually been used, in a limited way, since the 1970's. I wonder if that suit gives Tony Stark climate control. Might be useful at the PH. Rodent control would be useful, too.

Bridget texted me bak and told me how sorry she was that I am homeless, but that her brother died and she had to pay for the funeral. Maybe I should die and she would pay for my funeral. Probably not. At any rate, her brother hasn't died for FIVE FUCKING MONTHS, so that just sounds like one more BS excuse to me.

I am sitting at CC's (like most mornings), drinking coffee and using the free WiFi. There are a few regular denizens here, who are always on their computers. I wonder if any of them are wireless nomads like me. Could be. That black guy who always sits in the corner: he is usually here when I get here and here when I leave. Hmm. Lots of students, but you expect that at any coffee shop, particularly if it has WiFi.

I work 2-8 today. If I get off in time, I will cruise by Serrano's (it's half-price margarita night). Oops: Kyle just called me and told me that I have to be there at 12, so I'd better go right now. Damn: I wrote 2 PM down on my little piece of receipt paper. Oh well, I a close to overtime, anyway, so I doubt if anybody will be too mad at me.

More later, probably from Serrano's tonight.

text duel (n):

the situation where two people engage in an argument and/or name-calling session by texting over a cellular phone or blackberry. E.G: "I can't believe Muffy got in a text duel with me over that thing with Chad! What a bitch!"

Another Perfectly Good Day Shot to Hell

Got a whopping $50 from Bridget. I was at work and she sent Christie (her trained chihuahua) in to give it to me. She didn't even have the guts to face me herself. Christie didn't either, she literally sneaked up behind me, pt $50 on the counter, and was halfway out of the store before I turned around.

I woke up about 9:30 the next morning, when Travis came into the PH to do laundry. We went back to their apartment and had coffee, and I got to take a shower and do my wash. Bridget texted me and said she wanted to talk, and I texted her back and said no, thanks, I just want my money. This prompted a text duel. She texted me back "man if thats how u feel fuck it". I said, how do you expect me to feel, since I bailed you out and I'm homeless, and you have made only the slightest of efforts to pay me back (Imagine, her getting all huffy because I'm pissed at her. Who wouldn't be pissed off, in my situation? Like, I don't have the right to get angry when people crap all over me?). Then, she texts me back: "man im trying fuck my brother just died no insurance im fucking trying get it 2u as fast as I can". I understand that her brother just died,but he hasn't died for the past five entire months. God knows when I will see more money from her. If I could afford to, if I had enough money to live, I'd just blow the whole thing of: this is like dentistry in the days before novacain.

Anyway, I hung out with Travis for the morning, then we all went to Subway and got some lunch. I ended up working 2-10:30, and went back to the PH and watched Iron Man (yeah, there was nothing wrong with my machine: it was those used DVDs from Blockbuster). Travis said they wouldn't run on his computer, either, until he installed a new freeware reader, called Interactual, so I'm going to download it today.

In a bizarre twist, the following story was reported about Michelle Obama: according to the New York Post, on October 16, while her husband was giving a speech, Michelle Obama ordered room service at the Waldorf-Astoria and gorged herself on "imported champagne, lobster and caviar". The only problem is that Mrs. Obama was in Fort Wayne, Indiana, at the time, giving a speech. The Post printed a retraction, but that didn't stop Neo-Con propagandist Sean Hannity from blathering about it all day long on his imbecilic radio show where he repeatedly referred to her as eating "Iranian caviar", as though this (being, I suppose, axis-of-evil caviar, as opposed to merely nasty old Russian caviar) was not only an example of the Obamas' "liberal elitism", but a tie to terrorist sturgeon, as well. I don't recall hearing a retraction from Hannity, but he is a butt-plug.

This morning, I was awakened by an old black guy with a weedeater, which he was utilising to spread large amounts of dust all over the neighborhood. I got dust all over my laptop before I got up an closed it, so I left the PH early (I don't work until 3) and rode to CC's, where I got a large coffee, so I can surf the net, write and blog in peace. Looks like I will have 40 hours this week: I get a lot of hours because I will work any time. Of course, I don't have a lot else to do, especially anything that is particularly time-sensitive or schedule-oriented. I live like flotsam.

Maybe, when I get off, I will have time to get a margarita at Serrano's. All I have eaten today is a blueberry scone, and I probably won't eat again until later. My budget until Thursday is $30. Failing the development of some kind of solution to my housing problem, I guess it's La Quinta again on Thursday, with clean sheets, a shower, TV and (hopefully) WiFi. That, and Sundays with Travis and Fernando, is the only good stuff going on these days.

Travis won a contest at Albertson's (posibly because of me): every time I went into the liquor department, I would fill out these contest blanks for the two of them (since I work there, I can't win anything), for a contest which would get you a case of wine and some other stuff. Travis won it, and got a case of wine, a giant stuffed tiger, an LSU blanket, two folding chairs, portable ice chest and two tickets to the LSU-Tulane game, this week-end! Wow! So they get to go to the game on Saturday. I must have filled out about 20 or more blanks for them, so it is a possibility that that helped, even though Fernando filled out a bunch of them, too. Travis certainly had an advantage, statistically ...

Now, if my dream comes true, and I hit the Lottery ... It wouldn't have to be a lot. I'm not greedy. All I want is enough money to rent an apartment. Okay, buying a condo would be better. Or a small private island. Anything would beat the Possum Hilton.

Gee, it's only 11:00, and I have four hours until I go to work. I would like to be sleeping, right now; it was cold last night (it's going to be colder tonight), I was really uncomfortable and the weedeater dude ran me out of the place with his dust storm. I guess I'll get something to eat in a little while. Perhaps some wonderful new adventure awaits me, just around the corner ...

I sure hope not.

Message in a Bottle

Worked a 10-hour shift yesterday, after my mini-vacation at La Quinta, then, it was back to the Possum Hilton again. It was kind of chilly last night, and it is never really comfortable there, but I managed to get some sleep. I am at CC's, sipping an iced coffee and blogging. Today i game day: LSU vs. Georgia at 2 PM, and traffic is starting to build up on the roads around campus. It was really noisy last night, with a lot of students (and non-students) holding pre-game parties and tailgating. Finally got to sleep around 1:30 or so, when things quieted down a little. Texted Travis a couple of times, to see what he was doing, but he never texted me back.

Of course, the $100 from Bridget didn't materialize. I sent her a message yesterday, that I really needed the money and that I was running out of patience, since it has been FIVE FUCKING MONTHS, and all I have seen from them is $80. She messaged me: "just getting back trying to sell my speakers 2 pay u not fucking u got 2 pick mom up bring u something 2morrow i want 2 pay u off dont have it trying." How about that shit? So, this AM, she texts me: "bring you 5o 2day". Now, it's $50, and I still don't even have that. I have $10 left from my check, until Thursday. Somehow, I really don't think somebody is trying all that hard. I don't want to hear hard luck stories: I think mine would beat hers any day. I am not getting anywhere like this. I can't count on anybody to help me, not even to do what they should do, what they promised to do. If I'm going to get out of this mess, I'm going to have to do it alone, without anybody else's help. I'm beginning to think that nobody really cares.

My family doesn't, apparently. When Evan left, he told me not to think as though I was being abandoned, but, since Dad left, nobody has called me or contacted me. I don't even have Dad's new phone number, in Dothan. I feel as if I have become permanently disconnected: gulaged. I try not to think about things like that, because, if I do, I get really depressed, and it is hard enough to find the will to keep on going, and, if I give up, I'm dead. The loneliness of my existence is bad enough. I actually live to work, now. Isn't that fucked up? Something has got to change. So many people offer platitudes and tell me not to worry, that things will get better, but they aren't getting better. Oh, yeah: and keep praying, as though that will help. The only thing I get from prayer these days is a busy signal. Prayer helps sustain me, but I don't see God jumping up to give me a hand. Sorry: I just don't. I don't buy into that: "Be thankful for the blessings you have." stuff, either. The people who usually say stuff like that are doing fine. You don't hear a lot of people in my situation saying stuff like that. Oh, I could say it, all right, but I wouldn't mean it: it would be hypocrisy. Maybe I am whining too much. Maybe I should just start counting the god things in life, like possums. My possum must have stayed out late last nigh: he didn't wake me up this morning. I hope nothing happened to him (or her); I have become fond of it, whatever it is. It's my only boon companion. Maybe it hooked up with another possum. It's probably having more sex than I am ...

Well, ten days until the Election of the Millennium, and Obama seems to be ahead. November 4th is going to be a real trip. I am going to talk to the officials at LSU Lab School, where our precinct is, about giving us temporary WiFi connectivity (it was locked, last time we were there) so we can follow the election (and so we can have access to the Secretary of State's website, to look up voter's records: that would be a great help). Since Peggy an I both bring our laptops, we can maximize our efficiency that way. I think it will be a long, long day.

Got to get something to eat, before I go to work: all I had yesterday was a piece of fried chicken. We have good fried chicken, but I am tired of fried chicken. I might just eat some salad, instead.

Gee, I wish I had something more fascinating to post, but I don't. I don't even know if anybody is reading this crap. Maybe it's just going out there into the blogosphere, like a tree falling in a forest, and no-one to her it. I guess it's therapeutic, though. I wish I knew if anyone has read any of it, and what they think about it. Maybe I don't want to know. If there's anybody out there, and you read this, please let me know something. I'd like to know that my life has meaning ...