use to have roommates named betty&Glen.
she ate top ramen straight from the bag, crunch crunch;
we lived in a hovel in a dirty part of town near the freeway.
glen had fascinations with needles/we all did
but had no veins left. he worked as a carpet layer.betty use to have a job at the hospital but couldn't work there anymore cause of the obvious scars
like red blotched dots that shot all the way up her arm-ping pang bam was all we really lived for-I delivered cal zones all across the capitol of Michigan-my boss didn't give me gas money- was mugged& almost killed a few times.nobody tipped.
hated my life &my job.we had a purple room with purple carpet in the basement that was spose to be the drug room- but eventually the entire house looked like a stink hole drug den needle fart farm-we were slobs-betty never cleaned when the men went to work
-in fact she never got out of bed much-
unless it was time to score-zip ping pang-boom-worm butt cats wandering the decaying mini hallways.smoked dope all night driving around spitting on cal zones-dreaming of getting home to hopefully a fresh spike or
glass filled white panic button.use to page this 7 foot black man who had a job of his own-partly supply to demand-he was a mean spirited man who would steal pennies from my room&laugh at us when we had no money
for more-one time I flipped my lid and started tipping the couch over-
knocking things all round-
wanted to fight him-got in his face-yelled "why!" Why!"
betty&glenn sat with horrible faced come down looks
on silk bed staring out at me pushing this 7 foot black man-
screaming "fukin hit me!"
big 7 footer just laughed-left-
came over next day-allforgotten-told me "u dam nuts boy"-then laugh.
more was the main thing- just more-we had a crew of misfits that would come over everyday or night so we could go pull scams to get more money-this one red head kid who is dead now- me&him use to drive to wal mart type stores- Michigan Meyers-don't know how he did it-me would wait in my truck-he walks in-walked out with 100's of cd's in jacket or in back pack-or door knobs- just little expensive things-we could sell, -or return to the same store in the next town with so called lost receipts with fake drivers licenses-it was a beautiful scam-the red head was a master thief-
all the neighbors hated us-
cause they just did pot and beer-they were white trash as well-but they still had to judge us-and a few times exchange nasty looks around the snow chilled white lawns of freezing weathered schleps-eventually lost job, so did glen-rent was behind big time-
we lived in constant fear-
began selling anything
that use to mean anything to greedy pawnshop Arabian owners-glen never talked much anymore-betty was just always
complaining-
sometimes I would here them fight
like heavy weights in their sick smelly room-
hearing banging and screaming-lamps breaking-
told glen he shouldn't hit girls-and if he did again-
I'd lay him the fuk out-he told me to mind my own business-
betty had such great blue eyes-like eyes lost in the cleanest ocean mist on a california summer day-my mind always went back to the
malibu canyon roads with youth gone-sandy safed toes gone-
sickly we were-so sickly euphoric at times-lost hopes feeding off nothing but a brief moment-&whispers of impending doom-had to get-cops-began to slowly drive by at 4 in the morning-me&glen paranoid out of our paranoid minds-peeking through windows like men behind prison bars-crazed -thin-frail-glen was convinced the house would be raided any night now-
one day the red head kid never came out of the store=
I slowly drove off when a cop car pulled ups-only wandering how to get cash now-the purple rooms started turning yellowish brown-start writing bad checks-to 7 foot mens-with no transportation left from the three of us-cause truck broke-no phone-no electricity-
some of the misfits died-went to prison-or rehabs-
always had cat food tho=eventually the bing bang boom turned to plop drop dumb-sometimes still have dreams about glen&betty-wandering if they still
walk the earth-
last I heard and saw-a year ago-
they were living with these two roommates who had scabies-
in the deep ghetto-behind on rent-same old-story-glen eventually stopped smiling all together when I use to see him--even with those ocean blue eyes his old lady had.
This story Copyright 2002 Nicholas Morgan.
To the previous story | To the fiction list | To the next story