A Wild Ride
A week ago I received a message from the woman I was renting a basement from. But, I get ahead of myself ...
About 6 months ago my roommate of 10 years (and friend longer than that) allowed her boyfriend to kick me out of the house. Now, it may be something she wanted but was afraid to bring up or it may have been him constantly haranguing her to force me out. All I know is, when she and he first started talking about moving in together she told me I was safe, that I could live there as long as I wanted and from Day 1 when we all moved in together he was on my case.
First it was about parking - he wanted me to move my truck over one space in the 6 car parking area of the driveway. Then it was little things (per her):
Regardless of the past, I ended up homeless - just before winter set in. Great.
So, I slept in my truck and used the gym to shower; the library to stay out of the weather and wifi hotspots to keep me connected to the world. I lost the job I had in sales due to my lack of sleep, getting sick and my inability to close any deals (I worked in sales) and found myself a statistic.
Being homeless isn't easy and anyone who tells you so is lying through their teeth.
A few days before Thanksgiving I attended a party and casually mentioned to a friend my situation. It was the first real cold of the season with temperatures predicted to be into the teens.
She told me her mother had space and since her mother was there we began to talk. I gave a brief summary of my situation: homeless, unemployed and needing to not die. I told her I had no money coming in and needed somewhere to stay until I could get back on my feet. (That's important, it comes up later) She asked me how much I was paying rent with my prior roommate and I gave her a number that was actually higher than I was paying. She said that plus half utilities would suffice - once I could pay.
I didn't take her up on her offer until a week or two later when the high temperature in the forecast was in the 20s. My sleeping bag is rated to 20F, not -20F. I contacted my friend, she gave me her mother's number and I called. The mother, Barb, told me to come on up (about 30 miles north).
She showed me the basement, said I could have the entire thing to myself and said this was only until I got on my feet.
A week went by as I started getting used to sleeping inside, a shower and clean clothes. I searched for work, went to a couple of job fairs and applied to every job I could find that fit my skill set. I was also talking with the HR department of my old company who was looking for a new position for me. I had a great reputation there and they wanted to bring me back.
After a few days of sleeping there Barb started in on me: "Go get a job at 7-11." "Go get a job at the supermarket." "Go get a job at FedEx." "You're only here until you're back on your feet."
As Christmas was quickly approaching I thought long and hard about slinging boxes for either UPS or FedEX, but wanted to hear from my old company before I committed to anything else. So, I applied to jobs, went on interviews and waited for them to get in touch with me.
And Barb never relented.
Finally, a week after moving in with her, I was hired back by my old company. I started the following Monday. That Tuesday the transmission fell out of my truck on the way to work. My second day and I might have to quit the job. To say that I was disheartened is an understatement.
But, my mom lent me the money to fix my transmission and Barb gave me rides to my office which wasn't far from her own. I had two weekends without my truck but I eventually picked it up from the transmission shop.
The whole time Barb was driving me to work in the mornings she was on my case: "Get a second job." "Jesus will fix your truck for you, he has to." "Go get a third job if you have to." The problem with a second job was that I was still in training in this new role, I had no idea how much time I was going to need to commit or what my schedule would be, how much (money) I would bring home or anything else.
Then she started on my rent payments. I'd told her I had no money and reiterated that when my transmission broke and I had to borrow to get it fixed - I hadn't even been paid my first check yet (I was hired in the middle of pay period and so had to wait and extra pay period for my first check). But, she didn't care, she wanted her money.
When I got my first check (which was for only one week of work) I gave her a majority of it expecting to make up the difference on the second check.
She told me I had to shovel the snow, which I didn't mind doing as long as I couldn't afford to pay rent and she was, in my belief, helping me out. The least I could do was chores around the house to make her life easier.
The she told me I shoveled the snow wrong.
Then it snowed again and she told I had to shovel the snow.
Just before the end of January she sent me a screenshot of a word document she wrote to me saying I now owed her more than our agreed upon rent and instead of when I was paid, it had to be paid on the first - not a day later.
I was extremely annoyed at this as I don't get paid on the first and the fifteenth like a lot of people, but rather every other Friday. Luckily I had the money left over from a previous paycheck and took some out, giving it to her at 11PM on the first of February. I also asked for a receipt, which she wrote out the next day.
If she wanted to be formal, I could also be formal. I was now a formal rent paying tenant as opposed to someone being grateful for someone else doing them a solid. And we kind of fell into a live and let live manner of living with each other. In short: I avoided being around her and she only bothered me sparingly. Now, I say that under the caveat that she did laundry in the basement, so I had to see her, and she woke at 3AM to watch her televangelists live from the east coast, when she then came down to the main floor of the house and stomped around as she made herself something to eat.
When it snowed she would leave the snow shovel leaning up against the garage door or even my truck as a passive-aggressive notice I was to shovel, which I did occasionally. Other times, I didn't: I was now a paying renter, it was her job to maintain the property, not mine to do her chores for her.
In the meantime, I bought food, which she criticized, since |I mostly shop at Costco. She said, "Do you have to buy so much," once when I was unloading from my truck. Well, no, I didn't, but these were good deals and I can make meals for weeks out of what I purchased. Naturally, I couldn't use the refrigerator in the house for some reason, so I was stuck with the one in the garage. Inconvenient, but not impossible. Except when she pulled her car so far forward I had to walk around it to access my food. And on a few occasions she pulled forward so far and to the passenger-side so far I couldn't access the refrigerator at all.
There was once, when I was cooking my food for the week, and I stepped out into the garage to put the food back in the refrigerator or freezer, when she pulled into the garage. It was less than 20 degrees out, the garage door was open, I said "hi" and immediately went back into the house because I was only wearing a t-shirt. She came in and said, "Don't worry about the door."
"What door?" I asked.
"The door you shut on me." she said.
I looked at her, "Where I grew up we didn't leave the doors open to heat the neighborhood. You weren't even out of your car yet when I came back inside and the garage door was still open to the cold."
And yet, she still took it as a slight that I didn't leave the door open for her and let all the heat out of the house so the heater could run more. I don't get it.
Regardless, I fell into a routine: work, gym, get back to the house around 8PM, watch some TV and off to sleep. On the mattress on the floor. Oh, and that "whole basement" I was to have to myself? Yeah, it was filled with elliptical machines, a desk and assorted stuff that people collect over the years. The one bedroom down there was used for storage and the closets were all full. I wasn't paying $600 for a basement apartment, but for a bed and a bathroom.
Then there was the garbage. I'm by no means a neat freak or OCD about where things go, but she had garbage everywhere. You see, part of my rent that was supposed to go to garbage collection didn't because she didn't want to pay for it. She would gather the trash once a week and haul it over to her boyfriend's house and use his garbage service. And since he didn't have recycling, she collected it in a bin and took it to a public recycling center once every other week or so.
I started taking my garbage to work and throwing it out so she wouldn't try to tell me she was doing the extra work of throwing my garbage out and make me pay more.
Weeks went by and we barely saw each other. Her boyfriend, a retired government worker, had open heart surgery and she was gone for a few days then she returned. Apparently, being by his bedside when he needs her the most was too much effort.
Then towards the end of February she sends me a text message: she'll need rent on the first and I have to be out by May 18th. Both were okay as I hadn't intended on staying until May and I already knew when rent was due.
I replied with a list of legal demands for the state of Colorado. Like I said earlier, when she was helping me get back on my feet I was willing to overlook some things, but once she changed the relationship from friend helping friend to landlord tenant and put her demands in writing I was protected by Colorado law.
A couple of hours later I leave the gym and head back to the house. I see my things in the driveway. She was taking my belongings and putting them outside. I called the police.
As I'm going through my things, taking account of what's high priced or important (my dogs' ashes, laptop, camera, etc) she keeps coming out and telling me to leave. I hadn't packed up a single thing and she's telling me to leave. Instead of leaving I told her I called the police. She said she did too, telling them I hurt her.
The police arrive a few minutes later and I tell them what's going on, show the officer the text message proving I lived there, a piece of mail proving I had mail delivered there and my things in the driveway. She tells me what the lady is doing is illegal and I said I agreed, which is why I called the police.
At this time I'm no longer recording video because I didn't want to have to keep the camera straight, so I switch to audio. I record for an hour as I talk to the police, as they talk to her and I'm lading things into my truck. The police finally tell me she's willing to give me $60 to spend the night in a hotel. I agree. She gives me $54.
The woman slightly changes everything if you give
her a chance. First it was my rent, then it was my terms of living there then it was my move out date. She just kept altering things, but once I had it in writing, I didn't care - I was protected by law.
I spent the night in a hotel with roaches.
The next day I went to work, slept in my truck that night and mentioned to a co-worker my situation. She told me I could crash on her couch for a few nights if I needed to and I'm glad she did as the weather turned for the worse and Denver had some of the coldest days in history.
The other night I slept in my truck as it was only supposed to get down into the teens and then warm back up into the 20s by 5AM, but it didn't and I woke to frost on the outside of my sleeping bag. The next night, last night, I found a reasonably priced hotel near work and slept in a bed for the first time in a week.
It was awesome!
Tonight, though, I back in my truck, but it's only supposed to get into the 20s, so it shouldn't be too bad.
Now to stand up - again.
About 6 months ago my roommate of 10 years (and friend longer than that) allowed her boyfriend to kick me out of the house. Now, it may be something she wanted but was afraid to bring up or it may have been him constantly haranguing her to force me out. All I know is, when she and he first started talking about moving in together she told me I was safe, that I could live there as long as I wanted and from Day 1 when we all moved in together he was on my case.
First it was about parking - he wanted me to move my truck over one space in the 6 car parking area of the driveway. Then it was little things (per her):
- He didn't like me watching TV upstairs in the living room.
- He didn't like it when I woke early and made something to eat.
- He didn't like it when I cooked dinner in the evenings.
- He didn't like it when I used the kitchen table to eat.
- He didn't like it when she made dinner and there were extras for me.
- He didn't like it when she and I spoke.
- He didn't like it when she mentioned me to him.
Regardless of the past, I ended up homeless - just before winter set in. Great.
So, I slept in my truck and used the gym to shower; the library to stay out of the weather and wifi hotspots to keep me connected to the world. I lost the job I had in sales due to my lack of sleep, getting sick and my inability to close any deals (I worked in sales) and found myself a statistic.
Being homeless isn't easy and anyone who tells you so is lying through their teeth.
A few days before Thanksgiving I attended a party and casually mentioned to a friend my situation. It was the first real cold of the season with temperatures predicted to be into the teens.
She told me her mother had space and since her mother was there we began to talk. I gave a brief summary of my situation: homeless, unemployed and needing to not die. I told her I had no money coming in and needed somewhere to stay until I could get back on my feet. (That's important, it comes up later) She asked me how much I was paying rent with my prior roommate and I gave her a number that was actually higher than I was paying. She said that plus half utilities would suffice - once I could pay.
I didn't take her up on her offer until a week or two later when the high temperature in the forecast was in the 20s. My sleeping bag is rated to 20F, not -20F. I contacted my friend, she gave me her mother's number and I called. The mother, Barb, told me to come on up (about 30 miles north).
She showed me the basement, said I could have the entire thing to myself and said this was only until I got on my feet.
A week went by as I started getting used to sleeping inside, a shower and clean clothes. I searched for work, went to a couple of job fairs and applied to every job I could find that fit my skill set. I was also talking with the HR department of my old company who was looking for a new position for me. I had a great reputation there and they wanted to bring me back.
After a few days of sleeping there Barb started in on me: "Go get a job at 7-11." "Go get a job at the supermarket." "Go get a job at FedEx." "You're only here until you're back on your feet."
As Christmas was quickly approaching I thought long and hard about slinging boxes for either UPS or FedEX, but wanted to hear from my old company before I committed to anything else. So, I applied to jobs, went on interviews and waited for them to get in touch with me.And Barb never relented.
Finally, a week after moving in with her, I was hired back by my old company. I started the following Monday. That Tuesday the transmission fell out of my truck on the way to work. My second day and I might have to quit the job. To say that I was disheartened is an understatement.
But, my mom lent me the money to fix my transmission and Barb gave me rides to my office which wasn't far from her own. I had two weekends without my truck but I eventually picked it up from the transmission shop.
The whole time Barb was driving me to work in the mornings she was on my case: "Get a second job." "Jesus will fix your truck for you, he has to." "Go get a third job if you have to." The problem with a second job was that I was still in training in this new role, I had no idea how much time I was going to need to commit or what my schedule would be, how much (money) I would bring home or anything else.
Then she started on my rent payments. I'd told her I had no money and reiterated that when my transmission broke and I had to borrow to get it fixed - I hadn't even been paid my first check yet (I was hired in the middle of pay period and so had to wait and extra pay period for my first check). But, she didn't care, she wanted her money.
When I got my first check (which was for only one week of work) I gave her a majority of it expecting to make up the difference on the second check.
She told me I had to shovel the snow, which I didn't mind doing as long as I couldn't afford to pay rent and she was, in my belief, helping me out. The least I could do was chores around the house to make her life easier.The she told me I shoveled the snow wrong.
Then it snowed again and she told I had to shovel the snow.
Just before the end of January she sent me a screenshot of a word document she wrote to me saying I now owed her more than our agreed upon rent and instead of when I was paid, it had to be paid on the first - not a day later.
I was extremely annoyed at this as I don't get paid on the first and the fifteenth like a lot of people, but rather every other Friday. Luckily I had the money left over from a previous paycheck and took some out, giving it to her at 11PM on the first of February. I also asked for a receipt, which she wrote out the next day.
If she wanted to be formal, I could also be formal. I was now a formal rent paying tenant as opposed to someone being grateful for someone else doing them a solid. And we kind of fell into a live and let live manner of living with each other. In short: I avoided being around her and she only bothered me sparingly. Now, I say that under the caveat that she did laundry in the basement, so I had to see her, and she woke at 3AM to watch her televangelists live from the east coast, when she then came down to the main floor of the house and stomped around as she made herself something to eat.When it snowed she would leave the snow shovel leaning up against the garage door or even my truck as a passive-aggressive notice I was to shovel, which I did occasionally. Other times, I didn't: I was now a paying renter, it was her job to maintain the property, not mine to do her chores for her.
In the meantime, I bought food, which she criticized, since |I mostly shop at Costco. She said, "Do you have to buy so much," once when I was unloading from my truck. Well, no, I didn't, but these were good deals and I can make meals for weeks out of what I purchased. Naturally, I couldn't use the refrigerator in the house for some reason, so I was stuck with the one in the garage. Inconvenient, but not impossible. Except when she pulled her car so far forward I had to walk around it to access my food. And on a few occasions she pulled forward so far and to the passenger-side so far I couldn't access the refrigerator at all.
 |
| Too Close to Get Through |
 |
| Garbage to Climb Over to Access Refrigerator |
 |
| Where She Parked Her Car |
 |
| The Pile of Stuff I Sometimes Had to Crawl Over to Get to the Fridge |
"What door?" I asked.
"The door you shut on me." she said.
I looked at her, "Where I grew up we didn't leave the doors open to heat the neighborhood. You weren't even out of your car yet when I came back inside and the garage door was still open to the cold."
And yet, she still took it as a slight that I didn't leave the door open for her and let all the heat out of the house so the heater could run more. I don't get it.
Regardless, I fell into a routine: work, gym, get back to the house around 8PM, watch some TV and off to sleep. On the mattress on the floor. Oh, and that "whole basement" I was to have to myself? Yeah, it was filled with elliptical machines, a desk and assorted stuff that people collect over the years. The one bedroom down there was used for storage and the closets were all full. I wasn't paying $600 for a basement apartment, but for a bed and a bathroom.
 |
| Her "Recycling" |
I started taking my garbage to work and throwing it out so she wouldn't try to tell me she was doing the extra work of throwing my garbage out and make me pay more.
Weeks went by and we barely saw each other. Her boyfriend, a retired government worker, had open heart surgery and she was gone for a few days then she returned. Apparently, being by his bedside when he needs her the most was too much effort.
Then towards the end of February she sends me a text message: she'll need rent on the first and I have to be out by May 18th. Both were okay as I hadn't intended on staying until May and I already knew when rent was due.
I replied with a list of legal demands for the state of Colorado. Like I said earlier, when she was helping me get back on my feet I was willing to overlook some things, but once she changed the relationship from friend helping friend to landlord tenant and put her demands in writing I was protected by Colorado law.
A couple of hours later I leave the gym and head back to the house. I see my things in the driveway. She was taking my belongings and putting them outside. I called the police.
As I'm going through my things, taking account of what's high priced or important (my dogs' ashes, laptop, camera, etc) she keeps coming out and telling me to leave. I hadn't packed up a single thing and she's telling me to leave. Instead of leaving I told her I called the police. She said she did too, telling them I hurt her.The police arrive a few minutes later and I tell them what's going on, show the officer the text message proving I lived there, a piece of mail proving I had mail delivered there and my things in the driveway. She tells me what the lady is doing is illegal and I said I agreed, which is why I called the police.
At this time I'm no longer recording video because I didn't want to have to keep the camera straight, so I switch to audio. I record for an hour as I talk to the police, as they talk to her and I'm lading things into my truck. The police finally tell me she's willing to give me $60 to spend the night in a hotel. I agree. She gives me $54.
The woman slightly changes everything if you give
her a chance. First it was my rent, then it was my terms of living there then it was my move out date. She just kept altering things, but once I had it in writing, I didn't care - I was protected by law.
I spent the night in a hotel with roaches.
The next day I went to work, slept in my truck that night and mentioned to a co-worker my situation. She told me I could crash on her couch for a few nights if I needed to and I'm glad she did as the weather turned for the worse and Denver had some of the coldest days in history.
The other night I slept in my truck as it was only supposed to get down into the teens and then warm back up into the 20s by 5AM, but it didn't and I woke to frost on the outside of my sleeping bag. The next night, last night, I found a reasonably priced hotel near work and slept in a bed for the first time in a week.
 |
| Reasonable Hotel |
It was awesome!
Tonight, though, I back in my truck, but it's only supposed to get into the 20s, so it shouldn't be too bad.
Now to stand up - again.
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