That Time I was Homeless (Part Two)

No one in the family was aware I was homeless. You see, Daddy had cancer and by this time was not doing well. He had always saved me (and believe you me, I had made some really bad choices in my youth and often needed saving. That was my reputation in my family-or at least that is how I perceived it.) but I did not want to worry him while he was going through chemo again, so I just never said anything. To anyone. Ever.

After 3 months in the homeless shelter, I was required to find a new place to stay. I found a room in a two story house right across the street from the beach for $60 a week. The front was a public laundry mat. The back housed two rooms on the ground floor and four rooms upstairs. My new “palace” was the first room on the first floor, a small room with a bed and a bathroom.

It was, perhaps, the most horrific place I had ever seen. There were cockroaches as big as tangerines. I refused to sleep on the bed until I was able to get my own linens from the storage facility. It certainly did not help much. The first few nights I sat in the middle of the bed with a two cans of RAID- one in each hand. Those little suckers would get right over you and then drop.

My entertainment was sitting on the back door jam and watching the roller coaster riders in the theme park next door. I would wave when the riders got to the top. Some even waved back! And then “swoosh” they were gone, their screams still wafting on the wind.

When I was not working or watching the roller coaster riders, I was reading. No TV in my high class room, so I would buy a fictional paperback (I really loved Dean Koontz) and spend the evening reading and eating my delicious meal of beefaroni that I had heated up on a tiny hot plate.

Showers were both horrific and hilarious all at the same time. I must of used ten cans of Lysol in there before I would even use the bathroom or step into that shower stall. Between the bathroom and the cock roaches, I considered living in my car instead. I had hit rock bottom.

In the meantime, I had been hired as a receptionist at a towing company. I honestly do not remember what happened to the portrait sales job. Either I was fired for being so sick and not making my quota or I quit for the other job or they closed. I honestly have no recollection.

The towing company was run by a harder than nails female and her softer than cream cheese boyfriend. I had worked receptionist jobs in the past, but nothing like this. First, I had to take some calls from some pretty raunchy folks and second I had to broadcast over a radio to the drivers and the owners when tows were called in. Let’s just say, it was not one of my favorite jobs. It seems I could never get it right, or at least, not to the owner’s satisfaction.

The owner knew of my situation and offered me a second job cleaning rooms in the small hotel she ran. I was grateful. The rooms were, let’s say, condemnable. Condoms on the floor, soiled underwear under the bed. Yup, I made it for one day. I was done.

Remember that friend who took me to the homeless shelter? Well, her boyfriend came in to the tow place one day. Said he had to be at a job interview but his car had broken down. I lent him mine, well, my aunt’s. It was a Mercury Montego. Built like a tank. These were the days before fiberglass bodies, you see. The front end was very long and heavy. I made sure I gave him some driving instructions (brake well before you think you need to due to length of front end, etc.) and sent him on his way with a wave and a “good luck!”.

An hour later, he brought the keys and thanked me for loaning him the car. He called his girlfriend for a ride and waited until she arrived. I waved as he got into her (my friends) car and off they went.

When I locked up to go home that afternoon, one of the paint guys in the back asked me what had I done to my car?!?!?. Huh?? It had a HUGE dent in one side where the head light is. What in the world?? The boyfriend had neglected to mention that to me when he brought the keys back. He must of been really embarrassed because I never saw him or my friend again.

Soon, I began working part time at a locally owned golf store. I started as a cashier. So, with two part time jobs, I was able to begin pulling myself back up, one rung at a time. Having two part time jobs also afforded me the opportunity to apply for an income based apartment complex not far from work. I was immediately accepted and moved into an apartment the next month.

It was an easy move. You see, I did not have anything! Remember, I left my furniture with the landlord who evicted me. I did have some linens and towels, my clothes, some dishes and my books. So, I moved them in and that was that.

I used to read out on the balcony each night until it got dark. Then I would retire to the inside, lay on the carpeted floor and read by candlelight until my eyes closed for sleep. I also took cold showers that first month. I had only had enough for the deposit and first months rent when I moved in, but not enough for the electric or water to be turned on. That came the next month.

Things slowly progressed and I was asked to work full time at the golf store. I quit the towing receptionist job.

I did eventually get the electric and water turned on, so things were moving forward. And furniture! I got bedroom and living room furniture thanks to my daddy who worked at a furniture store. Side note, this was the SECOND time he had purchased furniture for me since I had been at the beach. I am not 100% sure I actually told him HOW I lost the first set. Honestly, I do not remember the details on how he knew I needed furniture.

I worked my way up at the golf store and soon became the head of the clothing department. Eventually, I was asked to be assistant manager at a larger location.

By this time, my aunt had gifted me with a new car. Her “old” car actually, as she had just purchased a new car for herself. She loved big cars. My “new” car was a Crown Victoria. There was enough room in it for a small circus.

Things were settling down now. I was working full time, had a roof over my head and living at the beach!

I decided I needed to sell the other car (the Mercury Montego) so put an ad in the paper and soon, a young couple, with their “father” were at my door. They did a test drive and wanted it right away. No, really, I mean they needed it that afternoon. They told me they had to travel to the next state to be with the man’s sick mother. I was not asking much for the car, but they only had half. They asked if I would just sign the title over for half and they would being me the other half when they returned. So, what do you think I did? Of course I signed the title over! They needed to get home to a sick relative! Even in my 30’s, I was more gullible than anyone had a right to be.

I never saw them again.

By now you are figuring out that my life, my choices, my experiences read more like a comedy of errors.

And yet, after all I had been though I was beginning to understand the strength I had within. I began to show myself the compassion and understanding I deserved and stopped flogging myself with my mistakes on a nightly basis. It was a start……………..

Kristi 2-11-2015