"Life After Portland" post #2
In my last post, I wrote about the roommate that done me wrong by defaulting on our lease and forcing me to move and surrender my security deposit. He was headed to California and I was headed to the want ads.
Luckily, through a connection at work, a woman's husband set me up with a guy who had a small two bedroom house less than a mile from where I was living. "He's a little strange, quiet and super frugal, but he's a super nice guy." He sounded okay to me. In the dire straits I was in, I could handle quiet and frugal.
So I moved in. I can't remember the address of the place. It was on 54th or 53rd Avenue in Crystal. The house was cozy and Tony (alias) worked a lot of overtime, so wasn't around much. When he was around, he was so quiet that I felt like I had to fill both sides of a conversation in. If you know me, I'm not one much for small talk, so this was kind of exhausting.
During a conversation he'd nod a lot and we'd have several what I call "awkward pauses" where nothing would get said, so I'd start back up with. "So, then..." just to get out of the awkward pause. It felt forced because it was forced. And while I know you can't change an introvert, when you get a couple of them in a room, and one feels like they need to make conversation, well, it gets awkward.
Then, when I thought a conversation was over, I'd walk to another room and when I turned around, sometimes he was standing there. Frankly it scared me every time it happened. More in a surprised kind of way, than fear, but unnerving nonetheless.
The upside to the arrangement was he had a floor to ceiling bookcase full of albums. He gave me free reign to them and I took advantage by recording some of the good ones.
Well, within about 4 months of living there I got laid off from my mapping job a few miles away. I was devastated and didn't know where to turn. When I asked mom if I could move in with her until I found a new place, she said sure, but that I'd have to share a room with my brother, Paul.
After I got my notice at work, I broke the news to Tony that I had lost my job and would probably have to move out. As it turns out, he said we probably wouldn't have worked out as roommates anyway. When I questioned him on it, he said he was looking for someone who could be more of a friend to him. Now, I had a few friend groups at the time, work, church and college and frankly was a little friended out at the time. So I guess it must have come across in some of my rambling monologues disguised as a dialogue that I didn't really need someone else to go and hang out with.
So, for the second time in less than six months I packed up what little dignity I had and moved again. This time it was with Mom and my brother. It wasn't ideal, but it would at least be comfortable again.