It’s all over now. I’m out of my hoarder friend John’s house, and into a new place, a huge duplex just over a mile down the road from where I was living.
I’m happy the move is over… but have been feeling somewhat frazzled today… not to mention confused and disoriented.
Notwithstanding having plunked down $900 in cash to Amber — in large bills — it feels like I’m an intruder in a house of strangers.
I know I’ll get over it, though.
Found out I was mistaken about who lives in the house. The African-American man and two little girls I thought were Amber’s husband and kids, turned out to be just friends visiting on Sunday when Amber showed me the place.
I learned of this when I committed a little “faux pas” shortly after arriving at the house. Amber had driven to my old place to pick me up and transport my belongings, and right after we pulled in to the driveway she said, “I have to go upstairs, change clothes, and rush off to a job interview. My husband will help you unload the car.”
Off she went, and so I walked into the house but didn’t see her husband anywhere. I did, however, see a white guy sitting in the living room watching their wall-mounted flat-screen TV.
“How ya doing? I’m Steve,” he said.
Wondering who the heck this was, I managed to stammer that I was moving in, but forgot to introduce myself by name. I walked out of the room, a bit bewildered, but walked back in again shortly afterward.
“Do you… live here?” I tentatively asked.
“Yes,” the man replied. “Kenya’s my wife.”
(Amber had just told me, while we were in the car, that most people call her “Kenya”, in order to distinguish her from her mother, who is also named Amber.)
Oops! This is her husband, and not the guy I met on Sunday?
“Uh…” I stammered, “Amber said you’d help me unload the car…?”
Later, when Amber came downstairs again, I said I didn’t realize the guy in the living room was her husband… that I thought her husband was the black guy from Sunday.
“Oh, no,” she replied, then adding, somewhat mysteriously, “No black guys for me.”
So… it appears that I’ll be living with an interracial married couple, a white gay guy, and a woman I don’t yet know anything about.
My first foray into communal living, which has off and on come to mind over the years as something I’d like to try. I hope it works out.
And I’m sort of relieved there aren’t any children in the house. I was worried I’d have to be on my best behavior at all times with them being there.