Tuesday, July 17, 2007

House warmings and the welcome wagon, part II.

When I moved out of the downtown apartment, I moved to Henry Farm Drive in Nepean. Or, in Laurentian. I don't really know where it is. But it was close to Algonquin College and Miller's Crossing, which meant lots of drinking and babes. Which was good. But not for the neighbours. A few of the guys in my college class already lived there, and it was already known as THE party house. Ryan and Stu and...some other guy I think...my memory is a little hazy about that time. But I do remember the party we had to welcome me to that place. Now the two biggest party houses in the class would be in...one house. And the cops came. And then they came again. And once more. The one cop was shining her light directly into my eyes EVERY SINGLE time. Finally I couldn't stand it any longer and I pushed the flashlight out of the way. That's when I realized why. She was an old friend of mine, a girl I had a brief flirtation with when we both worked as security guards. She just didn't want me to know it was her, because she couldn't really stay mad at me. We had a brief conversation, and although it was very short, it made the neighbours even angrier. This was my first day. I never met the neighbours again, without the police.

This year, the last of us (by that I mean the final guy with any connection to our original group) moved out. The neighbours were long gone, but the cops were still very familiar with the place. There were many other places over the years - the neighbours in Kanata Lakes found it rather disturbing that I would go outside for a smoke after coming home and not bother to take off the French Maid uniform. I lived with Kent again at that point. When I lived with John on Flora near Bank street, it was a place that was too small for two people, really. I left the house at 3:00 every morning for work, and the only bathroom in the place was in John's bedroom. I didn't want to wake him up, so every morning, I would wake up, go outside, and pee off the front porch. I lived there only in the winter time, which meant that every morning John would leave the house to be greeted with my name in the snow. The neighbours must have seen my name a lot also, because they didn't seem to like me much there either.

In the end, I don't think now is the time to become the pictionary and fixing-stuff-in-the-garage neighbour. I told Sang the other day that I was going to wear my french maid uniform every single day until the welcome wagon comes around to my place. I need to make a decent entrance, anyway.

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