April 01, 2002 | 1:04 PM

7Z )### Thurston St.

John and I ask Jenn to live with us and she agrees.

There are only two questions remaining:

1. Where in Boston do we want to move?

2. How do we deal with Ronnie Jackson?

The first question is easy. We all agree on Allston/Brighton-- more specifically the area right around Harvard Ave.

On Harvard Ave there are lots of bars.

And a used bookstore.

And a place that sells funky socks and Halloween costumes.

And a pagan/witchcraft shop in which the owner�s sexy black cat wanders amongst racks and racks of tarot cards and spell casting paraphernalia, and goth chicks and hippies browse for amulets and incense.

The greatest burrito restaurant in Boston is on Harvard Ave, as is the greatest Italian Restaurant not located in the North End (the North End being the �Little Italy� section of Boston, which is hard to outdo as far as pasta cuisine goes.)

Harvard Ave is young and fun, and not horrifically expensive when contrasted with comparably hip areas. Sure, there are a lot of white-hat-meat-head-frat-boys residing there, but having lived in Allston previously, I know there�s also tons of indie rock kids as well. Allston/Brighton isn�t nicknamed Rock City for nothin�. Heck, The Lemon Heads and Julianna Hatfield both used to call the area home.

(Yeah, I know�color me impressed. Lou Barlow of Sebadoh and Folk Implosion fame once lived in East Somerville, right near our Thurston Street apartment, but whaddaya gonna do? You can�t base your living situation solely on where your favorite rock stars used to live. Can you?)

The second question is more difficult to answer.

I feel kind of bad for Ronnie. I imagine how upset I would be were the situation reversed and I was the odd man out. I have a pathological aversion to hurting anyone�s feelings, regardless of how mean or abusive that person may be. My pal Suki calls me a "pleaser", which is (unfortunately) pretty on target.

We�ve already told Ronnie that we aren�t keeping the Thurston Street apartment�that once the lease is up September 1rst 2000, everyone is moving out. He accepts the information in stride, though I hear through the rumor mill he�s been bitching about John and I behind our backs.

They are fucking kicking me out of my own goddamned house. Poor, poor me. Blah blah blah...

We decide not to say anything else to him until we�ve secured a new home.

Landlords in Boston are notorious for raising rent on two bedroom apartments inhabited by three people. We�ll circumvent this atrocity by having just two of us sign the lease. John and Jenn have the best credit histories, so we agree that I�ll be the unspoken third roommate.

The Boston housing market is tighter than a pair of Levis after Thanksgiving Dinner. The occupancy rate is 99%. It�s slim pickings for apartment seekers, especially for those on a budget. We view a number of astronomically expensive shitholes and finally settle on the least shitty shithole of the bunch-- a one and a half bedroom split right on Harvard Ave.

It�s a dump.

The wood floors are scoffed, and the �living room� is the size of an office cubicle.

There is mildew covering the bathroom ceiling, and the tiles on the bathroom floor are breaking apart.

A couple of the windowpanes are misshapen thus not allowing the windows to open.

There is no closet space to speak of, and the stove won�t turn on unless you open up the top and light it with a match.

And for the pleasure of living in this slum, we must pay $1,400/month, not including of course the cost of heat, hot water, and electricity.

In the year 2000, the year of the great economic boom, $1,400 is considered a deal.

Oh, and in order to sign the lease we have to pay first month�s rent, last month�s rent, a security deposit equal to one month�s rent, and a fee also equal to one month�s rent.

AND there�s a fifty-dollar deposit for the key. Because as we all know making a copy of a key costs fifty-dollars. Right?

MY ASS IT DOES!

That�ll be $5,650 total, please. Would you prefer paper or plastic?

We are allowed to pay out the $5,650 over a period of three months. However, we have to put down the first $1400 immediately. The question is, how do three underpaid twenty-somethings come up with that kind of money in no time at all?

Well, a funny thing happens on the way to the slumlord.

A few months ago, John and I paid off a $1500credit card bill with a check drawn on John�s account (I had given him half the money.) The credit card company informs us we have paid off the total amount owed.

However, do to some kind of clerical error, the bank never takes the money out of John�s checking account. So he still has an extra $1,500�half of which is technically mine.

We wait and wait for the bank to notice their mistake.

But they don�t notice.

Hot damn. That $1,500 sure would come in handy right about now...

The day before we agree on the Harvard Ave apartment, John asks me,

What should we do about this money?

I think about it for awhile, and then I offer my opinion.

Listen. These are dire circumstances. We need an apartment. You have the down payment sitting in your account right now. I would say, use that money to pay the first deposit. That would mean you�ll only owe another $483. Just make sure you put the $1,500 back in your checking account as soon as you can possibly save it, just in case the bank notices and demands the money back.

John furrows his brow.

Half of that money is yours though, right?

Yes, but if you save the $1500 and put it back in the account after you make the payment, it won�t matter because we�ll all be paying the same thing anyway.

John looks at me strangely.

So... you don�t want your half of the money?

I grow impatient.

Well, assuming the bank realizes their mistake, they will take the $1500 from you once you put it back. So the question is moot.

John mulls this over.

But what if they don�t realize their mistake? What if I just have an extra $1500? Are you saying you don�t want half that money?

I shrug.

Well... see, the money is in your account. You�re the one baring responsibility for the risk of removing it. So I would feel really bad asking you for my $750 back...

I wait for John to say something, but he doesn�t respond.

I continue.

So in lieu of that, how about we agree on something else? Since I�m going to be totally broke from saving all this money, and presumably you won�t be, you�ll help me out occasionally with groceries and cigarettes�stuff like that. Does that sound fair? If it doesn�t, or you don�t want to risk taking the money out of your account, we�ll think of something else.

John�s expression is vague.

No, that sounds doable.

It�s settled. John puts down the $1500 to secure our apartment. After visiting the realtor�s office (where I wait outside and pretend to not be the third roommate) John, Jenn, and I retire to the Sunset Bar and Grill.

Jenn stares at John admiringly. Over a pitcher of sangria, she tell him,.

Wow. I am so floored that you came up with that money so quickly. I�ve only saved like four hundred bucks so far. How did you do it.

John smiles uncomfortably. He shrugs.

Well, I�ve known for awhile that we�d be moving. So I�ve just been putting some cash away here and there for a long time.

Jenn grins. She is in awe.

Well I�m very impressed. Thank you so much for taking care of the first down payment.

John clears his throat.

Sure. No problem at all.

On the subway ride home, Jenn leans over and whispers in my ear,

That�s so cool that John�s been saving up like that. He�s actually being a grown-up.

I nod and smile. But I don�t answer.

Later that night I attempt to figure out how I�m going to come up with $1,883 over three months, when I only take in about $1,400/month after taxes. I still have to pay my rent and bills, and I have to eat. How am I going to pull this off?

I sit at the kitchen table with my head in my hand, scrawling figures on notebook paper and swearing at my portable calculator. The calculator isn�t telling me anything I want to hear.

John comes over and puts his arm around me.

How�s it going little babes?

I sigh.

Dude, this is fucking horrible. How am I going to come up with all this money?

John kisses me on the cheek and laughs.

Yeah, I�m pretty glad I don�t have to worry about that. I�ve already paid $1500. Woo hoo!

I turn and look at him.

Honey, you�re gonna help me with grocery money and stuff like that, right?

John�s gaze moves from my eyes.

Um, sure. You know. If you need something...

I smile at him gratefully.

Thanks honey. Thank you so much.

Of course, it doesn�t really work out that way. Not at all. Guess who allows herself to be completely screwed over?

I have absolutely no talent for negotiating fair deals. I would be a horrible horrible lawyer.

Stay Tuned for Part the Forty-Third...

You fucked yourself and you don't know where to go!

Split wide open like a sturgeon for the roe!

Blood red splashed on pure white snow; oh no!

You fucked yourself and you're looking for the goat!

Drowned if you sink, condemned if you float!

You placed the blame but missed the boat!

You fucked yourself; you chose your fate!

You changed your mind when it's too late!

Self-deceit is your worst mistake!

So get to know yourself by reading THE SAGA from THE VERY BEGINNING!

time capsule from heaven - Sunday, Aug. 21, 2011
31 - Saturday, Mar. 15, 2008
Dead/Alive - Monday, Mar. 10, 2008
Do not trustTIAA-CREF-- they are fucking their customers - Friday, Jul. 28, 2006
Shilling - Tuesday, Jul. 11, 2006

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