I was in a pretty foul mood for most of the day. Late at night we get home and I lay down. After some time (how long?) I get back up to a quiet apartment. Ahh…. nice. No noise but the occaisional train on the tracks six blocks away. I had stopped by a Unitarian Universalist booth while walking about the Eugene Celebration yesterday. My interest in attending services have increased. I remember my church in Houston, how I had gone every now and then, on and off for a while, before becoming more committed. I had finally gotten to the feeling of it being “my church” (hard for someone uncomfortable with organized religion and socially shy to boot), and had made a monthly pledge for the church. In the three years of living here in Eugene, I’ve only been to the UU church once. It was a sunday not too long after Kim’s death and I remember breaking down and crying in front of the entire church. One thing that did strike me about the church at the time was that it was all much older people than myself and the emphasis on “touchy feely” hippy vibe didn’t sit well with me. I do not trust bunny rabbit personalities. It is not a bunny rabbit world and a person with rose colored glasses obviously has not been hungry and poor. Or they are living in denial and that is a delusional reality that I find as dangerous as paranoia.
Anyway, in my increasing interest in attending UU services again, I picked up my book “A Chosen Faith” and read an essay out of it. Then I set it down and picked up a book that I’ve had for a few weeks now, “The Metaphysical Club” and read a bit from it. It was coincidental and interesting to read of prominent names of the Unitarian history in the chapters of abolitionists and anti-slavery advocates.
Tuesday is the Autumn Equinox, yet I must work. I have Monday night off and it is on this night that Eliza and I are going to go to a local restaurant which I have a gift certificate for $100. We are going to have ourselves a grand dinner and much wine. Did I mention that we live three blocks away? Yes… much much wine will be had.
A couple more incidents happened last week. One of my girls told me that she was so hungry that she ate a burger out of a trash can. Another girl smoked hard drugs from tin foil in the bathroom. Another girl is homeless and crashes on people’s couch or in her car (which doesn’t run currently). Seven guys were kicked out by myself (my lone self) and they were not happy with me at all (I walked to my truck with a baseball bat after work). I had to fire a person who really needs the job but is irresponsible. Drug use continues to move in the club. I walked to a dealer in his car and told him not to come into the club or I’d call the cops on him. An alcoholic, whom I had to fire weeks ago, with tears in her eyes looked me in the eyes as I told her that I would not hire her back. A customer spent at least four hours in the club before I realized that inside of his wagon, parked in the very back corner, were two kids about three and five years old, on a chilly night, and both crying. Another girl sought psychiatric help after learning that her child was molested from her day care. Another girl told me that she was going to commit suicide and write a note to me on it (after yet another failed attempt for me to give her the sympathy she sought). A shift was not covered and I had to fill it with another staff-member at the last moment. Two guys asked me, in all seriousness which girl would give them a handjob for $50. Sad thing is, I can think of a name or two.
This is normal… par for the course. I am ready to be out of this industry.
I can hear Eliza stirring in the bedroom. Earlier she was talking in her sleep. I smiled to myself and sent her warm thoughts of love and affection, giving her her privacy to her statements of sleep instead of hovering over her to hear her secret thoughts (remember the Ramones song).
My lease is up in this apartment in December. January I will need either a new lease or a new address. I am leaning toward a new address with Eliza; a larger, more comfortable abode where we might have a dog and a yard. The prospect is both frightful and enticing. I am happy to daydream of days to come, of Eliza and myself, our days in a comfy house with dog and yard and a “more normal life”. And yet I am almost stricken with panic. As it stand now, I continue to pay the rent and utilities and such. I know my strengths and weaknesses and though things may get tight for a week or two, I can generally forsee the financial storms before they hit and brace myself for them. The thought of living in a place which demands a cooperative effort to pay the rent and bills, where I am not able to do it all alone, and thus become dependant on the other person to pull her share of the load, frightens me. Trust? There was a time when I trusted people easily. But trust is harder to come by now. Many people, my father for one, mistake much of my actions for trust. Because I pay a stranger’s tow bill on a highway at night in Houston does not mean that I trusted him to pay me back. I fully expected to never see that money again ($80), and haven’t. I trust people far less than one might think. And working with the bottom levels of society day in and day out (it is true that there are some nice people that come in/work in strip clubs… but they are by far the smallest possible minority), I find myself running contrary to Covey’s guideline in his book 7 Habits of Highly Effective People “to have a trustworthy relationship, trust people”. Such actions have burned me continually in the past at the strip club. I do not make much money… about $400 a week take home, but if I found a job that I could make this much at a week… I’d take it.
But for now it is quiet and more pages call my name. When I tire enough I will crawl into bed beside sleeping Eliza, put my arms around her, and fall to sleep to the rhythym of her breath.