1) #### Commonwealth Avenue.

I had this apartment for about a month. It was a 1 bedroom apartment occupied by Ned, a 37 year old Orthodox Jew. The apartment was actually his girlfriend�s but she was teaching in Israel. In her absence, Ned found it hard to pay the rent so he decided to get a roommate. He would sleep in the living room and I would have the bedroom. The rent was $350 per month. The apartment was far up on the B line, almost at Boston College.

I was 19 and desperate. I had been illegally staying in John�s dorm room and had sorely worn out my welcome with Ed, John�s meathead roommate who listened to bands like Nerferder and the Presidents of the United States. If I didn�t get a place soon, I would face either homelessness or returning, tail between my legs to Rochester NY. So I accepted Ned�s terms. Which were that I could never have anyone over to the apartment. I couldn�t use any of his dishes or cups or pots or pans. I couldn�t use the phone to make calls. I couldn�t answer the phone when it rang because it might be Ned�s girlfriend and oh by the way... she couldn�t know I was living there because she would be mad. She was �irrationally jealous� according to Ned.

See what a great living opportunity this was?

Oh, I also didn�t have a job yet so I was selling what was left of my ritalin and prozac prescriptions to make rent.

Needless to say, Ned and I didn�t get along very well. Once when I came home late at night he was having sex right in the middle of the living room floor with some feather haired troll who I later found out he met through his temple. Having caught Ned in the secular act of fucking someone besides his girlfriend most likely piqued his dislike for me. He told me that he was raising my rent and I had to either pay him $300 on the spot or get out.

I was 19 and exhausted so I didn�t put up a fight. I just left. But I had nowhere to go and my former college where all my friends were had closed for Spring Break. (They were fast becoming ex-friends anyway because the cult of privilege, a club I had once belonged to but no longer belonged to, does not like spending time with nearly homeless, semi starving, prescription selling teenage hags) Boston was a ghost town. I had 8 bucks in my wallet.

A friend wired me some money and I stayed in a youth hostile for a couple days. When that ran out I slept in the airport. At the end of Spring break I begged my way back to John�s dorm. Ed was so glad to see me.

2) #### Gardner Street

Shortly after the Ned debacle I got my job at the Stupid Company as a market research interviewer. I started saving money and looking for another apartment.

I wound up with 2 BU girls, Lana and Ilene in a fancy shmancy Gardner Street apartment. I dubbed the complex Melrose Place and was enormously relieved to be there. My room was the size of a closet and didn�t have a window so my rent was low compared to what both of them were paying. I got along famously with Lana, a biology student who found me bizarre, dangerous and intriguing. She was sweet and I liked having a girl to giggle with.

Ilene hated my guts. The feeling was mutual.

She was in a sorority. She was a Republican. Her family was loaded and she had never worked a day in her life. She liked watching soap operas and spent much of her time finding ways to save money on her grocery bill. That girl loved to clip coupons, which was amusing, as she spent thousands of dollars a week on clothes. Often she woke up late and would take a taxi to class.

I heard her making fun of the fact that I couldn�t afford a bed. I just had a foam egg crate in my room to sleep on. Bitch.

Our war began shortly after I moved in. Ilene was paranoid that someone was stealing her juice. She began hanging signs on the fridge.

Please stop drinking my juice

Then she started hanging them in other areas on the apartment.

To whomever it is that is stealing my juice: you really need to stop. It�s not cool, ok?

I hadn�t been drinking her juice. I don�t even like juice. But I got pissed. This girl didn�t even have to pay for her own damned groceries and she was freaking out about fucking juice.

So I started stealing her food.

If she had granola bars, I�d eat one. And I�d leave the wrapper on the kitchen table so she�d know. If she had a dozen eggs, I�d steal two of them and leave the cracked shells in a glass on the counter.

Who�s been stealing my fucking eggs?

Hee hee

She took to writing her name in Black Magic Marker on all of her cereal boxes and milk cartons. Not that it stopped me. And anyway, this spitefulness on my part was convenient as I was barely making enough money to pay my rent let alone eat.

And she told me at the end of the summer I would have to leave because she was having 2 BU students move in.

So I stiffed her for the last month�s rent. I knew her daddy would pay for it. So I just left.

God, it�s such a relief to write that. I�ve been carrying it on my conscience for the past 5 years.

No, I really really wasn�t a nice person back then. Not at all. I look back on it and cringe. But then again, she wasn�t the nicest person either. Not at all. I keep telling myself I�ll track her down and give her the money, but then I think back on the signs hanging all over the kitchen and I just can�t bring myself to do it. So I give money to the Green Party on her behalf instead.

And don�t you worry. Karma always comes �round to kick you in the ass. In this case sooner rather than later. I paid for my sins. Boy did I ever pay.

Welcome to the next living situation. Allow me to introduce you to Penny and Alex...