Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Roommates and Other Creatures

My BF does not know how to be poor.  It's not really his fault; he's never been poor, so he's never had to learn.  His whole life he's been upper middle class.  His parents were frugal, even though they made good money, and so have been able to support both him and his sister (and his sister's family) their whole lives.  Even when the BF became an adult, his generous family stepped in to give him anything and everything he wanted, or else he was making enough money to buy it himself.  He's worked hard to establish good credit and to pay his bills on time. 

For my part, I've always been poor.  I've always had enough to eat and clothes on my back, and I guess I would be considered wealthy in a third world country.  But my mother was always struggling to pay the bills, and my father I'm sure pretends I don't exist.  Everything I ever wanted I had to work hard for, save up for and earn.  I've never really had much disposable income, or, if I had, it was because I decided to splurge and buy something and not pay a bill.  If I don't have the money to pay a bill, I don't overdraw my bank account to do it, even if it takes me forever to catch up on it.  I'm not very good at saving, and I've never had an overabundance, but I've always had enough.

Unfortunately, times are not as good as they once were, and for the past couple of years, the BF has been struggling to pay everything from rent to bills for credit cards that he ran up when times were good.  As such, he has been forced to rent out two of the rooms in his house in order to make ends meet.  When I started dating him, he was renting out his rooms to a friend of his from high school, and this other lady that they knew.  Shortly after I came into the picture, he added in a friend of his and the friend's girlfriend.  They slept on the couch in the living room.  It was a good arrangement, I guess, although at times it felt like we were living in the Brady house.  Then it turned into the Real World.  First of all, the friend from high school lost his job around Christmas time, and, nice guy that my boyfriend is, he continued to let him live there rent free.  Idiot.  The BF would bring home job applications and telling the friend about places around the house that were hiring (the friend did not have a car and would have to walk) to no avail.  All he did was work on community theatre/semi professional theatre shows, drink, and pretty much be an asshole unless he wanted something from you.  Finally, at the urging of the other members of the household, BF got up the nerve to kick him out.  Or so we thought.  He decided to give the guy a month to find a job or he would be out.  In the mean time he kicked him out of his room and gave the couple the room (because they were actually paying him rent).  Though I was staying with him a lot at the time, I don't consider this when I moved in.  Three months after the first renter lost his job, the second renter lost hers.  But luckily, she had student loans and a husband to help send her money.

Anyway, just as the 30 days were about to be up, the deadbeat finally got a job, leading us to believe that he'd been lying about saying he had been looking all the months prior.  To make up for all the money he owed the BF, he was supposed to be paying 100 dollars extra every month until he was caught up.  But when it came time to pay up, he'd give this cock and bull story about how he hadn't worked as many hours as he'd thought he would, and he had to buy a bus pass, and blah blah blah.  And yet he magically had money to buy beer and cigarettes.  Imagine that.  A beer and cigarette fairy right here in our little town.  By this time the other members of the house had had it with him, and BF was getting pretty fed up as well.  At this point in the story, the other woman who was renting, who, heretofore had always paid her rent on time, did not have the rent.  She kept saying that her husband would be sending the money.  Every time BF asked, that was the story he got.  This happened almost every day for a month, or, well, at least every time he saw her.  Mostly she just hid out in her room that month.  But during this time, he's getting increasingly frustrated because it's becoming harder and harder for him to pay his bills.  And then the couple dropped a bombshell on us: they had decided to move to Texas at the end of the following month.  There went the one steady source of rent.

When it rains, it pours.  With the next month's rent due in just a couple days, the female renter up and left, leaving behind a cleaned out room and a goodbye note.  At the same time, BF chose to kick out the deadbeat, and we were left with the prospect of starting all over again with new renters.  Now, BF may look on this as an exceedingly dark time, but I happen to remember it as a very sweet time in our relationship and I look back on it fondly.  If I had to put a time stamp on it, I would say that this past summer is when I really moved in with him.  And, in my opinion at least, it was a great summer.  As a couple, we cleaned out the house, fixing what needed to be repaired in both rooms, and making them presentable for new renters.  I bought a new bathroom set and even put flowers in one of the rooms.  We put ads up all over the town and the internet, and we were certain that we would find some nice people who'd want to live with us.

Boy were we saps.

The first inquiries we got about the room were scams, which I recognized right away.  We got a people by to look at the room, but no one who definitively said yes, I will take it.  The first of the month loomed over us like a dark cloud each day that we didn't get a renter.  Luckily, in the summer, we were both working more, and so our meager paychecks could be stretched a bit further, but not by much.  BF was constantly overdrawn and frustrated, and every time I mentioned doing something that cost money, or if I went out and bought something, he'd go berserk.  Depression aside, I was very happy with our living arrangements this summer.  The house was ours, something that we hadn't had in our relationship, and something I think is very healthy for a couple.  We cooked together, cleaned together, and had sex in every room of the house--without interruption.  For me, it was bliss.

At some point over the summer, we got takers for the room--a couple of brothers from Oregon that each wanted a room at the price we were asking.  We were thrilled!  We killed two birds with one stone, so to speak.  BF talked to them, and they would be out at the end of the month.  We reasoned that we could handle a month.  What a relief to be able to tell those who asked that the room had been taken.  With their due date rapidly approaching, we nested--we cleaned the house and the refrigerator so they would have some room.  On the day that they had said they'd be here, we waited expectantly by the door, ready and willing to help them move in.

And we waited...

And we waited...

And then I went to bed and BF waited.

Now, if it had been me dealing with the renters, if someone told me they were coming out, I would have been in constant contact with them--emails, texts, something--to ensure they were still taking the room.  BF doesn't think like that.  He talked to them ten days prior and that was good enough for him.  He sent them a text that night and waited for the reply.  It didn't really come until the next morning, when he said that he'd been dropped from his classes and wouldn't be able to make it out.

We were crushed.  We were back to square one, and by this point, everyone who needed housing already had it.  Needless to say, we were desperate at this point.  BF called people who had asked about the room previously, and one person, who'd called just after the no-show brothers, said he'd take the room.  Then he called back and said that his father threatened to report his car stolen if he drove it out to California.  So he was out.

Two steps forward, one step back.

That's when, we had a pregnant unwed mother come up to our door, and fortunately for her, there was room at the inn.  She was very nice, and she and I got along pretty well.  She was due in a little over a month, and she needed a place she could have her baby's things.  Well, I'm good with kids, and the BF loves them.  Bam, she was in.  Just then, then Texan who'd called and said he couldn't make it, miraculously found a way to make it.  So BF welcomed him in eagerly.  And that's when all the trouble started...

No comments:

Post a Comment