“Scumbag. loser. fucktard” This is what 40-something y/o Nick calls his only connection left to high school, John.
Farts and/or belches every 30 seconds, running to the bathroom or patio for a cigarette every 3 minutes.
marijuana, cocaine, tv-dinners, cans of pepsi for breakfast lunch and dinner— how is this guy still alive?
John possesses the guest bedroom that I would have lived in in an arrangement that would have been peaceful had I’d arrived 2 weeks earlier. His girlfriend kicked him out and John made note of and came crawling back to one of the only revolving-door friends with a big enough house—and even bigger heart—to let him in.
John —— background: (Nick likes to talk…a lot…behind people’s backs)
John’s mom- heroin addicted whore dies of heroin overdose when he was young– used to drop him off at a bar to go turn tricks for drug money.
the bartenders couldn’t give him alcohol so they’d serve him cherry cokes, it was no surprise John ended up addicted to grenadine—a non-alcoholic syrup they’d put in his beverage. He still drinks it to this day. “He goes everywhere with it,” Nick says. “he stashes the pepsi in his room, that’s how serious he is about it, he’d probably kill for it” John also stashes his food stamp snacks in Nick’s guest room. Nick gave John a 100 dollar bill the first morning he introduced us. We went to the Olive Garden and John downed about 2 glasses of cherry cokes before his entree was brought out. He had about 4 total.
“John is a selfish whore.” Nick says pulling up to the driveway after noticing the absence of John’s car He can’t find a job but he can scour the internet looking for women—fat, old, ugly, you name it—desperate enough to pay him for sex.” That’s where Nick says John goes on weekends. All he ever wants in life is to live with a woman who takes care of everything.He wants a sugarmama. His last girlfriend was a pharmacist.
I have a feeling his leeching + his annoying young cat also had something to do with it. The pharmacist probably had enough of him and took one long hard look at him, stopped feeling pity and started feeling disgust. Either that or she tried to quit whatever addiction he most certainly wouldn’t give up. Or maybe just maybe met someone else more worthy of her time, more her ilk, higher level.
John is very selfish. He will complain that he doesn’t have enough gas in his car, but if he accidentally sits on his cigarellos and breaks them he will get into his car and drive down to the corner store to get some new ones. He doesn’t know how to save and invest. His addiction to cigarettes and Pepsi have been priority number one in his life. Old habits die hard. This guy is 43. He has no future. From what I’ve heard, he has quite the shady and shitty past. Currently his present is a gift from Nick’s mercy for sure. Nick looks at me and probably sees ass, ass and more ass. But deep down he knows there’s potential. I have a passion and I’m pursuing it. I still have a chance, I have plans and I’m doing something about my situation. I’m looking for a job so that I can save up to pay off my housing fees so I can complete my studies.
John is a cubs fan. He even named his annoying black kitten Cubbie. You should hear the way this 43 year old man-child says his kitten’s name. A stark contrast from his unleveled voice that runs that gamut between trying to be deep and mid-leveled. He does this annoying clap whenever the Cubs score. He goes back and forth out to the patio to smoke and then back in to watch the game in his room. You see, baseball is so boring even the diehard fans don’t watch it from beginning to end. He freaked out when I asked him to close the patio door. That was the last time I spoke with him. I’m the queen of silent treatments. I will look past you like grass. See right through you like you don’t exist.
He knows nothing of what it means to be a man.
Unfortunately his mom died of a heroin overdose. I wish she had died of the hands of her pimp. Kill 2 birds with one stone. Maybe her spawn who has absolutely no quality of life would have picked up the habit and rid himself off of the face of the earth. Seriously that whole family is fucked up. He even says his sisters are all strippers and escorts. Would later find out that a couple of his siblings are doctors who he leeches off from time to time.
Where does Nick draw the line? He’s anti-drugs, but he allows a drug addict into his house? What the fuck? Why? What a big heart, a teddy bear. He says he doesn’t want it in his house, but what if it is? Will he then kick him out?
Nick said to John, “you’re not living here.” But did he give him a timeline at all? Did he give him a “if you don’t get a job by the end of the month, you’re out of here” plan? If not, then John IS living here.
This guy was dropping the n-bomb multiple times on purpose attempting to drive his friend’s new live-in roommate of color (yours truly) with something he couldn’t compete with (knowing that he would be more likely to get kicked out before I would) out of the house. The plan failed. It only backfired in a way that it made me ignore him more. He would always try to start a conversation. His interviews were going nowhere, his jail record wasn’t doing him any favors. When Nick made John drop me off at an interview at a staffing agency miles away, he bitched about his gas tank. Nick gives John some money. John makes a stop to get gas using his gas card. He then makes another stop to get more cigarettes using Nick’s money. John tries small talk in the car. Very contemplative and subdued, I preferred to ride in silence. On the drive back after the interview, he made another stop to get a drink. He comes back into the car trying to bring up more shitty small talk about how he gets free drinks via his gas card. He then brings up why he opts to wind down the window instead of putting on the air condition. I ignored him, never answered him and left the car in silence after the drive back.
You wanna know how much he paid for the 2002 SUV he transported me to my staffing agency interview in? $500. He says he got a deal because he’s friends with the former coke dealer who owned the car. He points to the still-broken roof above the mirror where the dealer would transport the cocaine across state lines. Wow. Could it be the coke dealer is trying to rid himself of evidence? This John has been off the grid for quite some time. He says he is “street-smart” but I don’t think he can even spell the word “smart.” He only began paying taxes last year and he starting to want to stop being paid under the table because he says that he needs to start thinking about saving towards retirement.
He abandons his annoying cat to go chase sugarmamas, not job leads—sugar mamas. This cat jumps on me and spills a lot of crap that I’m forced to clean up. I didn’t sign up to babysit or catsit when I was searching for a live-in arrangement in Chicago. Hell, I was searching for a mature Chicago fellow who doesn’t smoke, and I ended up with someone who is housing a human-ashtray—the lowest of the low white trash—in the only spare bedroom available with no possible timeline for it to all come to an end.
I fear it may all come to a head. They’re both into crime shows. Nick enjoys the first 48, and John likes 48 hour mysteries. Hell, even I enjoy Forensic Files from time to time, no lie. However there’s something funny about someone who grew up in the streets, a drug addict who can’t seem to get his life together watching murder investigation shows. I’m surprised John isn’t taking close notes about how to get rid of me/ get me out of the picture so that he can have Nick to himself finance him for the rest of his miserable life