Current mood:nervousSoooo... haven't heard the guy I rent a room from in awhile, but I have heard several women's voices in the main house. Because I have my own entrance, bathroom, & all that jazz I only go into the house to borrow the vacuum...
Anyhow - I go in for the vacuum the other day, making sure to announce myself so I don't scare anyone, at which point some crackhead lookin broad pops out of the bathroom mid hair curl. We exchange names and then she asks "have you heard where David is?" ummmmm no?
So apparently dude I rent the room from is in some mental institution, because he's bipolar and cracked when his mother passed away... mind you, the police officer who came to the house when my car was stolen asked me how it was living with this guy because he had "been there before a couple years ago when David's mother passed and he has a bit of a temper." A couple freaking years ago!!!!!!!! who cracks two years after the fact????
The story goes on - his father, who he didn't get along with, died a couple months ago and left him an inheritance of $25,000... or so David had told me... he told this crackhead lookin lady that he got the inheritance from his mother's death... whatever - we'll go with it. So - this lady I guess is a friend of his last caretaker (he's basically crippled and can't walk) who David met from his drug dealer (???) and is now in jail for god knows what and won't be out for a while, which is why this lady is here watching over the house... she continues to spill the beans -> David got an inheritance of $130,000, nto $25,000, invested $20,000 in a whore house somewhere in Vegas with some lady he didn't know, and blew the rest on hookers, drugs, and a rented hummer (who the fuck was driving???) and within a month the entire $130,000 is gone. Coincidentally, he forgot to pay rent for the past two months because an eviction notice showed up on the door (my rent money is going where one might ask? who knows...).
ok - so now I know I have to move.. lucky I'm pretty fucken nomadic and this is not a huge deal. At least it's during the summer when I actually have time to move, right??
Story continues - there's this guy that comes over from time to time on his little street bike. We've exchanged words but I have no idea who he is... I get a knock on my bedroom door the other day and crackhead lady is there and give me her phone number with the following instructions : "if you see that guy on the bike come over here again, will you please give me a call? Don't tell anyone I told you, but he's actually on Alameda County's wanted and dangerous list, but I know how to make him go away..."
well isn't that just fucking fantastic... i guess he's been on the run for a couple years and was busted originally for having drugs and heavy artillery... SERIOUSLY????
heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere we go... just gotta make it through until the end of the month... yay for pepper spray and deadbolts...