I had my day planned: go to the Laundromat, then to Panera for breakfast, Target for some storage bins, and then the local yarn store to check out yarn for my next sweater.
By the time I get to Target, I’m feeling pretty good. It’s a gorgeous day. Maybe after all my errands are done, I’ll go to the Rose Garden, since all the roses in the neighborhood are blooming. I go into Target and grab my cart. And then I see the security guard. All of a sudden, time stands still and it all comes back to me.
“Dude, I went to the mall while I was home this weekend.”
“You always go to the mall when you go home.”
“No, listen to me. Anyway, I met this security guard, she was a woman, and I talked to her and she says it’s easy. Dude, when I go home for real, you could come with me, and work as a security guard.”
“A security guard? At the mall? Yeah, right.”
“No, really, she said it was easy. Besides, you’d look good in a uniform. We could get an apartment and I’d stay clean, I promise.”
When I was 17, CPS removed me from my parent’s “care”, and placed me in a group home for troubled adolescent girls. For the first time in my life, I was allowed to think for myself and there were rules. The rules stayed to same from day to day, with no guessing, no yelling, and no hitting. This was an amazing concept for me. I was giddy with freedom, believe it or not.
Jennifer arrived about 3 months after I did. We had been playing cards at the smoker’s table for a while before we actually became roommates. I was willing to play cards outside, since her cigarette smoke chased off the eucalyptus. Eucalyptus is an asthma trigger for me, but cigarette smoke isn’t. Go figure. Anyway, we talked about anything and everything. By the time the girls were gearing up for another round of musical roommates, we were inseparable anyway, so we became roommates. The only sticking point was my pet mice, which the we decided could remain in the living room (my last roommate wasn’t that fond of them, either.) And I had to get used to living with the shrine. Jim Morrison, Jennifer told me, is God. Pointing out that he was, and remains, dead didn’t deter her. Naturally, we listened to the Doors a lot.
Once we were sharing a room, the flirting increased exponentially, which eventually led to the Lingerie Wars. This was a competition to see who could wear the least amount of clothing to bed, while still remaining, technically, dressed. This exasperated the houseparents to no end, since they were never sure what they were going to walk in on. They took to knocking, and waiting, before coming in to our room, something they were not supposed to do. Jennifer finally won, choosing to wear her bikini to bed, and removing her top after the lights out bed check. I admitted defeat and went back to my Garfield night shirt.
After we had the conversation about the apartment, and my working as a security guard, we flirted and played cards for a few more months. Of course, we never did get that apartment. Jennifer violated her probation in a really spectacular manner, and ended up, well, I don’t know exactly where she ended up. The last letter I got from her, she headed back to jail, but maybe if she talked to her dad, she could convince him that she was going to stay clean for good this time. Promise.
Prayers, good thoughts, doper vibes and especially MMP Cool Kid vibes are with ya. How could anything go wrong with all that goin’ on?
