Grace and Kyled Move Out

[summer 2006]

With Grace and Kyled living on the second floor, and myself living on the first floor, it was a rare occurrence that I ever saw them. Not that I didn’t hear constant complaints about them, but for the most part, I hardly ever saw them. When I would think of them, I would think of the old saying “When the cat is away, the mice will come out to play”…and I would just change it to “When Mike is away, Grace and Kyled come out to play.” I just couldn’t fathom what was going on in that bedroom. I knew that the room was totally empty accept for 1 chair and a futon mattress that lacked a sheet.

I digress though and probably shouldn’t spend too much time what was going on with those two characters.

11pm-ish, the last night of Grace and Kyled at 3900.

“Mike.” I heard in a soft voice through my bedroom door. My immediate thought was something must be horrifically wrong since it was the voice of Kyled, and why else would he be coming to my door. Nothing was horrifically wrong though, although some mind manipulation attempt was about to go down.

“Do you have a phone number for a taxi service?”….which clearly meant “can you give us a lift?”

I was all over it. I knew what he wanted. Without replying with a valid answer to his question I gave him a “I will drive you to the bus station. What time do you need to go?” It was late, I figured I'd avoid the game.

After 10 more seconds of conversation I am locked into giving them a ride to the bus station. I’m a nice guy, what can I say?

The departure of Grace and Kyled wasn’t all that eventful. The standard “take this money for gas” followed by the “no no, it was no big deal” went down. I really had no clue what was going to happen to them other than the fact they were moving to Toronto.

The post departure was semi eventful. I arrived back at home, grabbed Dale, and went into their old room. Boy did it smell of a funk that words can’t describe. The amazing thing about it was how the smell was contained to the room and didn’t really linger out into the hall. Dale and I knew that the futon mattress had to go, so how best do that? Throw it out the window of course.

The mattress was unbelievably heavy and hard to manage. We’re not weak guys. I hit up the gym at least a dozen times per year. Dale goes twice that. After forcing it out the window we had a great idea. After much giggling, we rounded up Ryan to help implement our new plan.

With Lora and Seyhla resting in their room, the 3 of us managed to stuff the futon mattress into Lora’s trunk. It didn’t take much to amuse us and this seemed hilarious. Based on the sheer difficulty in moving the mattress, we wondered if she’d even be able to get it out of her trunk without our help….

The next morning…

Damn, I am running late to work again. I take my usual 1 minute power shower and rush to my car to go to work. Shockingly, what do I see? The futon mattress is stuffed in the front seats of my car. Irritated to all hell that I had to deal with that when running late to work, I do not notice right away at the putrid odor it left behind.

Looking back, I think that someone had to help Lora move the mattress to my car. Given the time of night though that it would had to have happened, I’m left perplexed.

Life Lesson: Never underestimate the strength of a woman who had a stank mattress hidden in the trunk of her car.

Marty’s Car Gets Scratched

[summer 2006]

Name: Marty Mcphereson

Occupation: none

Life Goals: unknown

Friends: few

Mental Status: unstable

I’ve seen plenty of scary movies in my day. I always thought that the actors did a great job of actually appearing scared. Seyhla’s face on one particular day showed me a new meaning of terror.

Marty, the jobless man who wastes money as if it grew on trees, had recently gotten a new VW Jetta. The “how? What? Why? etc…” questions rang through the minds of all who knew him. He made the mistake of brining the car to 3900, the place where everyone knows that everything always gets ruined.

As Marty and I sat in the living room, which is adjacent to the driveway, we could hear the faint laughter of Seyhla coming from outside. Marty had instant anxiety since his car was in the driveway and a 5 yr old child was playing out there. He dashed over to the window and gasped. “SEYHLA, do NOT touch my car with that stick.”

I ran to the window to watch the show. Seyhla stood near Marty’s car with a 5ft long stick. It was pretty thin and most likely couldn’t scratch his car, but she stood there with it held over his hood. For a second I thought I saw a demonic gleam in her eye.

It was instantly clear that she knew Marty did not want the stick near the car. It was also clear that she thought it was a game to dangle it over the car to get a reaction out of him. I do not think it was planned on her part to actually touch the car with the stick, but sure enough, she did just that. Marty bolted outside and gave me a sight that I’ll never forget.

As Marty grabbed the stick from seyhla’s hands, she cowered into a ball on the ground and screamed out one line – “Don’t hit me!”

Marty broke the stick in half and came back inside. I wondered if she’d ever been hit before. What could make her scream that? Regardless, Seyhla never dangled sticks over Marty’s car again.

Life Lesson: If you have an unemployed, mentally unstable, quick tempered friend, do not ever let them move in with you. I learned this lesson too late.

The UPS Trip

[summer 2006]

4pm. Driving home from work. Yessss….done working for the day.

A “What the F—“ pops into my head. I see Kyled walking down the street struggling to drag a suitcase. It was one of those suitcases that has a handle and wheels on it, however, this suitcase was missing a wheel and the zipper was broken. I pulled the car along side of him and asked him if he was moving out early. Unfortunately he wasn't. He was attempting to walk the 2 miles to the UPS store so he could mail his books. Although it would have been very interesting to watch him attempt this traveling feat given the state of his suitcase, I opted to offer him a ride. I pulled over, opened my trunk, and lifted the suitcase into my car. The suitcase easily weight 100 lbs. It was a tremendous strain to lift it in the manner I did, but I downplayed it as if it was nothing. I had to save face after all in front of Kyled.

We arrived at the UPS store and kyled struggled to get the suitcase out of my car. I had to put on my "strong" face once again and carry the bag into the store. The thought of a hernia popped into my head. Kyled didn't realize that the postage would be outlandish for mailing that much weight. It was fortunate for him that I was there to cover the costs. I had visions of him struggling to get to the store only to be turned away and struggle home...I smiled to myself over this. Yes, I'm a jerk...but at least I'm a jerk who'll strain himself carrying other people's possessions only to pay their bills for them.

Life Lesson: Don’t ever go cheap when buying luggage. In the event a wheel falls off and the zipper breaks, it’ll be very difficult to transport books in it.

And the Boxes Tumble Over

[summer 2006]

Don’t get me wrong, I think Lora has huge issues/problems, but she does have one thing going for her – that she’s a compassionate and kind person. That being said, I was fortunate enough to see her diabolic side (perhaps the side passed onto seyhla?).

“DALE, DALE, DALE…MOMMY NEEDS YOU”

We’ve heard screams before and they always turned out to be the same scenario – one where Lora wants attention. With that in mind, Dale and I sat in our lawn chairs while our steaks cooked on the grill. We didn’t even acknowledge the screams and sure enough, Seyhla vanished as quickly as she appeared.

Just on cue, 20 seconds later, Lora appeared in a total rage. “YOU MOTHER F---ERS. I AMLOST DIED IN THERE.”

(calmly) “what happened Lora?”

“THE BOXES IN MY ROOM FELL OVER ON TOP OF ME. I WAS TRAPPED AND COULDN’T BREATHE!”

“then how are you talking to us now Lora?”

“YOU A—HOLES, I MEAN IT. I ALMOST SUFFICATED”

“riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight Lora”

“SCREW YOU GUYS. SEYHLA, GET IN THE CAR”

Peace ensued with their temporarily departure to go who knows where. As usual, Dale and I had another great idea. We rushed to her bedroom and saw the boxes scattered all over the floor. We took a shirt from her closet and stuffed it with newspapers. We then took a balloon, blew it up, and attached it to the shirt as if it were a head. We placed this ½ mock body next to a box on the ground and left a note as if it was a message coming from the mouth on the balloon, “Help! I am dying!!”

Our intention was to poke fun of the situation. Fortunately, when Lora returned, she chuckled at the mockery of her that lay on the floor in her room.

Life Lesson: Sometimes all you need is a shirt, newspapers, and balloons to turn a life threatening disaster into something humorous.

Zipper Chest

[summer 2006]

Marty played more of a role in our house that summer than would be obvious from my lack of writing about him; but I can only remember a handful of events. The one that really stands out though is the time Marty and I worked out together. We had just gotten some free weights at our house along with a new weight bench. Marty and I wanted to get pumped up. I think most guys who work out at home do so shirtless. Something about that seems manly maybe? I am not sure, but whatever reason there is for it, we did it. Our basement was pretty cold, and although we could have just put shirts on, we opted to just put on our UB Roller Hockey zip up hoodies. It was our first time working out, so we figured we'd max out so we would know our baseline. We got up to 250lbs. It was Marty's turn to go and he tried to pump himself up a little bit. He zipped his hoodie up 3/4's of the way and got on the bench. He bobbed up and down for a minute to prepare for the weight. He grasped the bar. I was there to spot him in case he couldn't do that much weight. His previous lift attempts had all gone smooth. He had lowered the weight quickly to this chest, then quickly back up. This time things didn't go so smooth. The weight went down quickly as it had done before, but this time, it happened to land exactly on the zipper.

One might be quick to discount the effects of 250lbs on a zipper on a man's chest, but that would be a mistake. Marty screamed in pain and every ounce of strength he had was gone. I was clueless as to what was going on, but I quickly pulled the weight off of him. Marty just laid there. I asked him if he was ok. He just laid there. Finally, he stood up and unzipped his hoodie. There was a massive indent in his chess from the zipper. It was unmistakable what caused the indentation.

For the next week, Marty was known as zipper chest to everyone in our house. That was also the last time we ever worked out together.

Life Lesson: Don't try and be a tough guy when you work out - wear a t-shirt. Otherwise there is a good chance your will get the nickname "Zipper Chest".

Wild Turkey

[summer 2006]

Shots, shots, and more shots. That pretty much summed up most evenings that summer. On this fine day though, Dale and I had a special treat in store. Guess who appeared from recluse while we were having shots of soco in the kitchen? None other than Grace and Kyled. Being the gracious people that we are, we immediately offered up shots to our fellow house mates. Although reluctant, they finally agreed to take a shot after a little persuasion. We told them that we would open up the "good stuff" for them to celebrate our sharing of drinks...and we did just that; we pulled out our bottle of Wild Turkey. Grace went first. Although it is hard to believe, it was apparently the first shot she'd ever had in her life. How something like that even happens, I do not know. Perhaps it was the language barrier between us, but she took the shot glass and started to sip on that sweet nectar as if it were tea. The most amazing thing about it was that her facial expressions never changed at any point. I've seen many a man give a "yuck" face after a shot of the turkey. Dale quickly communicated to her via illustration with a shot of his own on the proper technique for taking a shot. She took it like a champ.

Kyled went next. He wasn't on the same level as Grace and it was apparent he didn't really care for it. That didn't stop us from getting him to have a 2nd and 3rd. Although I personally feel it would have been impossible for Kyled to feel the effects of the alcohol within a 2 minute time span, he did start to act a little loopy. Grace thought it was an act an laughed at him telling him he was being a fake. Obviously we had to support our fellow house mate, so Dale and I made fun of him too.

Life Lesson: When you’re drunk, you’re drunk, when you’re not, you’re not. Don’t ever try to pretend one way or the other if an Asian woman is around, as she will call you out on it.

Off Topic - Ice Hockey

Email I sent my team today in regards to our ice hockey game last night:

"111 total penalty minutes last night. that seems like the old p22.

If you break that down – three 15 minute periods = 45 total game minutes.

111 minutes / 45 = 2.47 players in the penalty boxes per minute for every minute of the game.

You are all out of control and need to start following my example of keeping a cool head more often."

* Note that I led the league in penalty minutes last season and am currently #3 in the league for this season...

Lora Cries….again.

[From summer 2006]

Watching cartoons with Seylah and Dale…7pm-ish…have I mentioned already that apparently our television only picks up cartoons for some strange reason?

“Slaaaammm!” The door to Lora’s room flies open. What looked like a ball of tears, agony, and total disarray flies to my general direction. To the average person, these hysterics might have warranted an immediate call to 911. However, I am a trained professional when it comes to Lora. After a glance at her, my eyes refocused on the cartoons. In my mind, whether it was the TV or her, it was pretty much the same show. At least the tv I could turn off if I wanted to.

“Miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiike, I received another bill from school. I….I…..I….I….(yes, it was a stuttering show)….I….I….I had everything budgeted out….how can this be. I know I had things budgeted out. I can’t afford this. I have to move back to California. Yes, I’ll have to move back now.”

In the most nonchalant move I’ve ever seen, Dale reached up, grabbed “The Bill” from Lora’s hand, glanced at it and stated “Lora, the date on this is from a month ago. Did you accidentally look at this and think it was a current bill?” This was immediately followed by Dale dropping the paper on the ground and redirecting his attention back to the television.

Lora picked up the paper, went to her room and shut the door. Two minutes later, Lora emerged, tranquil and happy that the world was back to “normal”.

I had seen Dale send a calm person into a total tizzy with only a few words before, but I’ve never seen him calm a person who is having a psychotic episode. I wondered what the world would be like if Dale used his powers for good and not evil so much.

Life Lesson: Throughout your life, people will freak out when around you. Just focus on cartoons and they’ll tire themselves out.

Lora Cries...

[From summer 2006]

If there is one thing that I can’t stand, its:

• Someone who is being taken advantage of
• Someone who KNOWS they are being taken advantage of
• Someone who justifies why they are being taken advantage of

Lora sure fit the profile. Dale, Ryan, and I heard one too many times about Lora’s unfortunate financial situation, which ultimately led to some much needed intervention.

“Hey Mike, where are you going?”

“Oh, just to Boston Market with Ryan. We are going to grab something to eat.”

“Is it expensive there?”

“Nah, maybe 6 bucks for some food, why, do you want to come?”

“Sure, we’ll come…”

What followed was the first time I ever saw someone try to haggle with a cashier at a fast food joint. Lora wanted corn without butter for Sehla, something related to her not being able to eat butter, and Lora also wanted only a single slice of turkey…something not offered on the menu. In the end, the haggling paid off, as Lora got a custom meal for a couple bucks. I was always amazed at her ability to get people to react to her appearance of “someone in need of help”.

Anyways, back to the “Lora Cries” part…

While eating in the booth, Ryan and I got to experience another sob session. They were all pretty much the same and they usually got the same response. This session started off like all the others:

Lora – “poor me, I have no money, I can’t buy things for Sehla”

Mike – “where the hell is her dad? Why isn’t he helping more?”

Lora – “he has his own problems. He is depressed as it is. I am not going to make it worse.”

Mike – “Why don’t you make him pay you child support?”

Lora – “He can’t afford it…”

Mike – “tell him to get a job”

Lora – “Its tough for him to find a decent job, his degree is in the arts”

Mike – “Lora, get a reality check here. Look at Ryan. He works 60 hrs a week for 9$ an hour. He is busting his ass and making his own way. Why can’t Seyla’s dad do the same?”

Lora – “He has his own problems. I do not want to burden him.”

At this point, I had heard enough, so naturally I started tug on some strings to make her feel bad about this…

Mike – “Lora, who do you love the most in this world?”

Lora – “obviously Seyhla”

Mike – “So you want the best for her right?”

Lora – “of course Mike, what mother doesn’t want the best for their child?”

Mike – “Here you are, living with a house of misfits, hundreds of miles away from home, struggling day to day to get by, doing all you can for your child. Seyhla’s father sits home, doesn’t work, tries to make everyone feel sorry for him, and you eat it up. Don’t you think this 30+ yr old man should suck it up to provide for his 5 yr old daughter?”

Lora – “You don’t know what he’s gone through mike.”

Mike – “If he’s gone through a lot, then he should know not to abandon his own daughter. Call civil service and make him pay child support.”

Lora – “He doesn’t make enough money…”

Mike – “Dammit Lora, tell him to get a second job…even a third job. If you are going to sit here and tell me that you aren’t going to make him support his own daughter, who you love the most in this world, because you feel bad for him, then I’m going to call you out and say you are a liar. You don’t love her the most in this world, you love him the most. If you loved her the most, you’d try to lessen the burden on her, not on him.”

And then it happened….tears….collapse to ground….more tears….total breakdown of how it was dumb to move to Buffalo, how she’s a bad mother, how hard it is for her….

My intent was never to make her cry. My intent was to get that lazy jack ass father of Seyhla’s to start helping out for once. I often thought how much fun it would be to take a baseball bat to the guy’s knees. He epitomizes the dead beat dad in my eyes. For the record, I had heard countless stories of the dad prior to feeling the need to part my words of wisdom.

Life Lesson: If you want to go through life without anyone placing expectations on you, just get a degree in art.

Blogging...Take II

It has been 3 years since my last post...but the stories never stopped. In light of a few current events with some of my tenants, I decided to start sharing what life is like to be a landlord...stay tuned.