  So here I am. Where do I begin? How the hell did I get into this mess? I mean, I do not use drugs, I only drink socially (and that is limited to beer and the occasional martini if the mood is right), I try my hardest to keep putting one foot in front of the other and not let society distract me.... But for some reason I just can't seem to get it right. I lived in a small apartment after leaving my wife (she had some serious issues that she refused to deal with and I could no longer be married to someone like that). Yeah, it was a crummy little pad in a dump of an apartment building, but for $400 per month (that included water and sewage service), it was the right place for me. I had a decent job working on cars, too. Eh. Where did I go wrong? Some people tell me I am too nice. Others say I am a complete asshole. Perhaps I am somewhere in between.... You see, there was a neighbor that lived three doors down from my apartment who was going through some of the same problems I was when I seperated from my exwife.
He lost everything, had to move into a dumpy little apartment, and was just all around unhappy and depressed. He is an older guy, somewhere in his late 40's to early 50's if I had to guess, and not only did he have the emotional baggage of the looming divorce, but he also had some serious health problems for which he refused to see a doctor.
He claimed to have stomach cancer, but he also claimed that because his life sucked so bad he would rather let it destroy him than to see a doctor to get better. Well, I kinda felt bad for the old fart. Then one day, he fell down in the parking lot and shit his pants due to his deteriorating health. Some of the other guys that live in the building were out there and they all started laughing at him instead of helping him. I thought that that was a real shitty way to treat the old man, so I went outside, helped him up, and walked him to his apartment.
He and I started talking after that and I would visit him 2-3 times a week for a couple of hours at a time. Well one day I was at the pub across the street. I had $3, which meant I could get 3 PBR's in a can. I drank the beer and started walking across the street to get home when I noticed the old bastard in the parking lot.
He called me over to him and asked if I wanted to come over for a few beers and to watch a movie. I agreed seeing as how I was now broke at the time and he had cable and beer. What I did not know, however, was that he had been taking shots of what he called "Black Russians" (a shot of vodka mixed with a shot of Kahlua) all afternoon and evening, so he was pretty lit. He kept taking the shots while I was there and insisted that I take some too. I tried to inform him that I do not drink liquor, but he wasn't having any of that crap. So, I decided to leave. As I was about to leave, he pulls this knife out and starts rambling on about how he wants to end it all, that no one cares about him, that his life is useless, that he is still in love with his wife, blah, blah, blah.
I tried to tell him that if he was considering offing himself that I needed to get out of there, that there wasn't really anything that I could do for him. That's when he turns towards me and points the knife at me, ranting about how he is tired of assholes like me that do not care about him and that he would like to take me out along with himself. With that, he started moving towards me, all the time keeping that knife pointed at me. Now I guess I should point out at this time that I have always had an irrational fear of knives and being stabbed. I guess I should also explain that he had his window and door open during this time and one of the other neighbors saw what he was doing and called the police. Anyhow, as he started towards me, everything started to seem like it was in slow motion. The only thing that was on my mind was getting that knife away from me and out of his hand.
So I commenced to whoop his ass. Well, I had managed to get the knife out of his hand, but I guess I went a little overboard with how I was beating him. I was still scared for some reason even though I was now in control of the knife. Anyhow, the cops showed up as I was on top of him, beating him with my right fist while holding the knife with my left hand. They took no time in grabbing me and slapping the cuffs on me and arresting me for assault and battery.
They took him to the hospital and they took me to jail. By the time I got out on bond a few days later, there was a note on my front door from the landlord explaining that I had 5 days to vacate the apartment because some of the other residents were nervous to have me living there. Apparently the old man had talked to him the following morning and told him that I had attacked him for no reason. Well, after I showed him the police report that explained how the neighbor that called the police saw the old man coming after me with the knife, I asked him if I still had to move. He told me that yes indeed, I still have to move, that this altercation, with no regard as to who actually started it, was creating an enviroment in the apartment building where people were becoming nervous.
So I asked him if he was giving the old man the boot as well. He told me that he would consider doing that seeing as how he knew the old man was a raging alcoholic and that he has actually had some problems with him before. This was over 3 months ago and the old man is still living there. Anyhow, upon moving out of the apartment, I was preparing to rent a room from this boarding house a few miles from there.
This chic I know who has 2 kids came over to my apartment as I was loading the last of my belongings into a U-Haul truck so I could put my things in a rented storage unit. She explained to me that it seemed like a major coincidence that I was moving out because she and her husband had just split up after he knocked her around a little more than usual a few nights before. She was looking for someone to stay at her house so she would feel a little safer. Well, after a little negotiating, I agreed to stay at her house for the sum of $250 a month. That included my rent and all utilities, but I would be responsible for my own food, booze, and cigarettes.
Seemed like a perfect deal to me, so I moved in that day. The first few days of my new living arrangement went pretty smoothly, although I immediately missed having the privacy I was accustomed to living with. Remember, she has 2 kids and I was staying in the living room. I like her kids- I really do- but I could not get away from them as they always wanted me to pay attention to them because apparently she barely paid them any attention. Well, after a few days she started complaining about how she could not afford her water bill. For some reason she was unable to afford it the month before as well, so the bill came to $81. The public works people were telling her that they were preparing to shut off her service if the bill was not paid. She said the magic words: "What am I gonna do? My kids can't live in a house with no running water or sewage service! " Well, I felt bad for the kids so I went and paid the water bill. Then a few days later she get a letter from the electric company explaining that if her past due bill was not paid, they would interrupt her power service.
Once again: "What am I gonna do? My kids can't live in a place with no electricity! " So I went and paid the power bill. Then her sons birthday was coming up.
"What am I gonna do?
I can't afford to buy him a present and I can't let him have a birthday without a party and presents!
" So I went and bought the kid a couple of presents that she could say were from her. (by the way, she informed me on how tacky and cheesy the inferior products I provided for her son were. ) Well, by this time I was about tapped out and pay day was almost a week away. Then one day, right out of the blue, she informed me of how her husband and her had been meeting secretly and how he was going to move in the next day and that I had to be out because they were going to work things out and have a beautiful life together and that nobody else that was not in the family could live there any longer.
So out the door I went. Me and my dog now resided in my 1991 Ford Explorer. Oh, I have been told that he has since beat her up a few times and punched numerous holes in the walls of her house. Oh, well! So life started to suck. I really loved my dog, but I was unable to go to work because I had no place to keep her during the day.
So I lost my job. I eventually had to give the dog to my kids mom (which is where the dog came from anyhow) just so I could go to work during the day and not have to worry about the dog dying from the heat in my truck while I was at work. So I was still living in my truck. Well, until it broke down that is.... So that is how I came to be where I am today: sitting at the library downtown wondering how the hell I am to get back and forth to work as they cut off almost all the bus routes because they can not afford to run that many buses anymore.... I really just want to get out of this town and join a band, but that's a completely different story..... 
