It was Wednesday, January 18, 1989.
I was getting ready to head out to one of my bars. Wyatt was about to head out to his. He’d just sent one of his girls – a bartender from a bar on University where he worked – on her way before Teresa came over for the night. He was drunk and high.
After the blowup a few weeks ago, we hadn’t talked much. I was looking for a way either to get him out of there or, perhaps even better, get me out of there.
I’d lived with roommates pretty steadily since my sophomore year of college. Some were good, some were insane – but this was getting ridiculous. Maybe I can figure out a way to afford a place of my own, I thought as I heard Wyatt padding down the stairs.
“You got the rent or NSP for the last two months?”
He snorted. “I told you I’d pay that when all the product gets moved”. He walked on, apparently thinking that settled it.
I’ve heard that before, I thought about saying. But what’s the point?
“Hey”, he said padding past my room again. “I’m thinkin’ maybe all the guns in the house should go through me for safekeeping”.
“Uh huh”, I muttered, tying my shoes.
“Because I’m the only person in the house who knows how to handle them”.
“Whatever”.
He padded back upstairs.
I headed out to the car and started driving to work.
He’s dealing drugs out of the house. AND he’s a moron. And when, not if, he gets busted, I’ll end up in a world of s**t too. What can I do?
Part of my brain strained to recollect the names of cops I could talk to, that I’d met while covering police stuff for neighborhood papers back in ’86 and ’87.
Nothing, another part of my brain thought. Not a damn thing. Ever.
I don’t know Mitch…I was never all that bright when I was young and look back at crap I did or put up with and think “What the hell was I thinking…?”, but you seemed to be especially obtuse during this period in your life. What was the matter with you that you let him get by with that crap? I don’t get it. You were like an abused woman who stays with her monstrous husband and no one can figure out why….
Did you ever verify that your roomie was really working in the drug biz?
But, you know what you know.
Seems like other options might have been available all around here, but life is funny like that.
I’m wondering if you were able to provide any sort of quality-control assistance here. Ha ha.
Let’s just say my decision-making was kind of addled at the time.
Yeah, we were all young and dumb once 🙂 Kinda harsh tho, Colleen, walk a mile in another man’s shoes, yada yada…
Hmm kinda harsh, Colleen, walk a mile in another man’s shoes, yada yada. we were all young and dumb once 🙂
whoops, delete one of those, Mitch heehee, I didn’t think it worked the first time 🙂
sorry tolowen…but we’ve been reading about Wyatt now for quite a while and there have been MANY little clues…why anyone would even move to another house with the creep let alone let him stay…it’s very curious. I can understand the “addled state”. Every one of my past indescretions was in an addled state as well…Lesson: stay “unaddled”.
If we didn’t know Mitch was alive and well and typing, while reading this stuff one could get a little worried…he could have been “kilt or even worse”.
True, I would’ve been worried about him if I knew him then, although 26 year old men tend to think they are immortal.
I wonder what ever became of Wyatt. If he made it to the 21st Century. Sounded like he was headed for an early grave :-/
updates on both coming shortly.
way too shortly.
Yes, the drug dealing deadbeat is definitely the guy to run the guns by in that household. Looking forward to the update. Just how far up the DNC did Wyatt get?
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