Homeless, but not for long...
Follow the link if you missed the last post in my biography.After turning the Thompson's world upside down, I found myself sleeping in my car, without even a blanket to protect me from the snow's cold that now masked both my windows and any warmth my rolling home could have provided. I could hardly afford to leave it running when I didn't even have the money for proper shelter.
I had a girlfriend (who of course had no idea about the circumstances of my eviction), Lauren, but she still lived at home with her family. Her parents, as so many people seem to have been fooled, were fond of me but not the type to approach with such a proposition as was necessary to resolve my homelessness. I had no idea where to turn. The Honda would have to do for now.
My first night within its confines, I of course overslept. I had been due at work in the morning and wouldn't have been able to make myself appropriately presentable without an iron and mirror anyway. You can add unemployed to the list of my problems. I was definitely proving myself ill-equipped for adversity. My only option seemed to be calling my mother and having her wire me some money from Venezuela. How would I explain to her my situation though? Yeah, fuck that. You think you could have that conversation with yours?
I still had a key to the Thompson's house and after a couple of days living out of my car had become positively bitter. I convinced myself that I was the victim somehow and that Mrs. Thompson owed me one way or another. Evict someone...sure! Put a kid out in the snow with no resources (either monetary or familial) who is strapped to the state by a little thing called felony probation, and you're practically inhumane. I mean fuck, I hadn't even seen snow before a few months prior, went skiing in blue jeans (Lucky Brand of course) I was so obviously ignorant and Texan, and had practically been raped while in a drunk stupor the first time we shared a bed. That would be their bed, the one she shared with her husband. She owed me and the fat wad of cash she kept in one of the drawers of that very bed would be sufficient compensation for my winter eviction and present state of affairs.
On a day when I knew no one would be home, I simply let myself in with my key and retrieved the money. I knew I would of course be the prime candidate if and when the police were informed. The only option to circumvent the crime being attributed to me was to make it look like it had been an actual break-in. I chose the garage's side door as my supposed entry point and kicked it in about as well as any 155 pound man; more than twenty attempts and several instances where I thought I had separated my shoulder. The scene was set and I would be sleeping in a hotel room that night. I just knew I wasn't going to freeze to death over getting my dick wet. I was much smarter than any cop I'd ever met and proof of my crime would be hard to come by. (Click here to subscribe to my feed!)
I had a girlfriend (who of course had no idea about the circumstances of my eviction), Lauren, but she still lived at home with her family. Her parents, as so many people seem to have been fooled, were fond of me but not the type to approach with such a proposition as was necessary to resolve my homelessness. I had no idea where to turn. The Honda would have to do for now.
My first night within its confines, I of course overslept. I had been due at work in the morning and wouldn't have been able to make myself appropriately presentable without an iron and mirror anyway. You can add unemployed to the list of my problems. I was definitely proving myself ill-equipped for adversity. My only option seemed to be calling my mother and having her wire me some money from Venezuela. How would I explain to her my situation though? Yeah, fuck that. You think you could have that conversation with yours?
I still had a key to the Thompson's house and after a couple of days living out of my car had become positively bitter. I convinced myself that I was the victim somehow and that Mrs. Thompson owed me one way or another. Evict someone...sure! Put a kid out in the snow with no resources (either monetary or familial) who is strapped to the state by a little thing called felony probation, and you're practically inhumane. I mean fuck, I hadn't even seen snow before a few months prior, went skiing in blue jeans (Lucky Brand of course) I was so obviously ignorant and Texan, and had practically been raped while in a drunk stupor the first time we shared a bed. That would be their bed, the one she shared with her husband. She owed me and the fat wad of cash she kept in one of the drawers of that very bed would be sufficient compensation for my winter eviction and present state of affairs.
On a day when I knew no one would be home, I simply let myself in with my key and retrieved the money. I knew I would of course be the prime candidate if and when the police were informed. The only option to circumvent the crime being attributed to me was to make it look like it had been an actual break-in. I chose the garage's side door as my supposed entry point and kicked it in about as well as any 155 pound man; more than twenty attempts and several instances where I thought I had separated my shoulder. The scene was set and I would be sleeping in a hotel room that night. I just knew I wasn't going to freeze to death over getting my dick wet. I was much smarter than any cop I'd ever met and proof of my crime would be hard to come by. (Click here to subscribe to my feed!)
