Ask Bob

BY BRIAN PETRE

Once again I find myself strapped for time. Tales of the Pelican Tragic will continue, but for now I hope you enjoy an old memory from my Florida days.

So, this takes place in the fucked up summer of �00�and I say fucked up because it�s the peak of my job status with co working friends at a theme park gig I was hired for in Tampa FL, which I took to get away from the fucked up summer of �97. Anyway, I had been jumping around from apartment to apartment for a couple of years, and when a relationship I was having at the time ended with an ice skater and I�d decided to look for a new place, hoping ultimately for a house to rent. I didn�t like neighbors on the other side of the wall, and they didn�t like me. I really enjoyed watching movies on my surround sound at extreme volumes late at night as I drowned myself in beer and Jim Beam. All I had lived in since �92 was apartments and by this time it had become quite clear that neighbors couldn�t live near me, and neither could my girlfriend. So what do you do at a time like this? Get the fucking bullshit out of your life and find a place to blast the stereo. After looking at several fucked up places in bullshit locations I came across a place just a few blocks from work, which at first glance was in the same ballpark as the others.

I had bought a $400 computer in hopes of something or other, loaded with programs that I never touched. This computer was my new toy, my gateway to another world, one filled with barely legal teens and lesbian sluts. A portal to a universe in my mind I didn�t even know existed until that cute bare ass was in my face attached to a girl who seemed to say �I�ve never met you before, but please enjoy my body�. I could elaborate a lot more, but there�s a story to tell. The computer had started off in the apartment bedroom, but I caught myself staying up late on it and had to listen to the woman constantly ask me to come to bed. So I moved the computer to the living room for more privacy�and then eventually had to move it to a new rental house which didn't include the woman.

I had found the various housing locations to look into on the internet between porn search jack off sessions. Internet chicks...pixel beauties who never talked back, casually looking over their shoulders without a care in the world. The computer slut didn�t care how or when I was enjoying her, the perfect woman. There's allways the choice between 20 free thumbnails with the option to see 4500 more in high quality resolution for only $2.95 per month, but all that's besides the point.

Unfortunately for everyone around me, I do what I like, most of the time, and when I feel like doing it. It may sound selfish, but it�s a fact. I smoke too much, drink what others consider �excessive�, gamble, and enjoy porn. If these things aren�t accessible to me I face the fact it�s not there and deal without, but if it�s around�don�t get me wrong, I ignore my own immediate compulsions if I see an opportunity in the future for something I might enjoy, but all I was seeing at the time was the comfort of my own environment, to do as I pleased. That�s how I met Jan.

After viewing a couple homes (I kept my search limited to the immediate area of work) I ended up at a place only several blocks from my hell job. I had turned it down in the morning, but accepted by afternoon. I have to admit the appearance of my landlord didn�t catch me off guard much and wasn�t the factor in my initial decision to keep looking, but she did seem to fit in with my abstract lifestyle that I unintentionally live. I remember the moment I met her.

I can�t even remember what homes I may have looked at after Jan�s. Wherever it was clenched the idea there was nothing better than the house on Ridge Road. And my new place turned out to be a gold mine, and I�m not saying this because it was nice, it was a piece of shit, but it had the immediate qualities I was looking for, and later became a part of my life I can never forget.

The house Jan, the landlord, lived in was several doors down from the one being rented out. I wasn�t aware of this until my self guided tour. The recent renovations had been done by a local drunk who got lucky to find my living room carpet on the side of the road. This was to replace the old mildewed carpet, but he only covered it. The �new� appliances were refurbished pieces of shit from the 70�s, and the bars on the windows were so rusted a baby could escape. This was to be my future home.

Jan�s house was easy to find, and the sizable cactus in the front yard would have been a nice land mark if the junk cluttered around the porch hadn�t upstaged it. I knocked on the front door and was invited inside by a yell from deep within the home, fuck the traditional handshake and �how do you do� shit.

�Come on in� was my invitation. And I remember feeling strangely comfortable with this as it showed immediate trust, which you don�t find everyday. The moment I entered the house I realized the cluttered junk outside was in the process of being refurbished to match the antiques I now viewed throughout the living room. I only knew they were antiques as Jan had later explained she was a dealer. It still looked like a clutter of useless bullshit to me, interesting bullshit, but bullshit none the less�and I was nonetheless impressed.

And here comes Jan, sounding a bit concerned about not greeting me at the door. She was cute in the face, for being in her 50�s, and was unusually welcoming�like a used car salesman, without the anticipation of commission. And it wasn�t until the limp grip of the handshake that it really hit home�my new quadriplegic landlord had an unusual affection for horses and hand stitched family stories.

Her dolly moved with the efficiency of a 7-11 bound skateboarding boy with 2 bucks in his pocket as she scooted down the hallway to meet me. I sat on the couch, her on dolly, and we talked�not in the way people meet people in unusual circumstances, but more of an interview style. Not to be funny, but I was on top, questioning why I should pay her $350 per month for this ex-crack house. I think she liked me because I and her two cats got along. Like I said, upon viewing the place, I originally left without the intention to return.