He came into our lives in a blistering blaze with the salacious swagger of a porn star, because he used to be, well… a porn star.
RCK plopped into our lives on Memorial Day weekend, the very start of the summer of 2007. Summer 2007 was pitched perfectly. Each day brought temperatures in the high 80s, incandescent afternoon sun in the cerulean sky reflected back on the slate colored Willamette & Columbia Rivers. The 3 of us would spend every free afternoon naked on the beach at Sauvie Island. The Husband was mahogany by Labor Day, & even my redhead PSF 70 skin turned the color of toast. Our trio would sun, read, walk on the beach, sip vodka lemonade & smoke some pot. We would return to town in the evening to nap in the Boys’ Fort before going bar hopping at night.
Our relationship with RCK ended as the summer of 2007 ended, on Labor Day weekend & it ended badly. A terrible riff developed between RCK & The Husband & because I always have my husband’s back, I took his position. I wouldn't have it any other way.
Through the years RCK would call me or email me asking for a get together, but I never seemed to find the time & eventually he informed me that I just wasn’t a good enough friend to continue, news to me since I had understood that we were quitsville.
RCK had met a new friend after our days together. This friend's name is Crystal Methamphetamine & she is a real bitch. RCK eventually lost his job, his home, his much loved Cadillac, his motorcycle & all his friends. He contacted me a year ago begging me to meet him somewhere, insisting that he needed to see me.
At a café in my neighborhood, RCK told the tale of loosing it all, sleeping in parks & under bridges, nights in jail, a suicide attempt & having to give away his beloved feline Henry. I can be a tough cookie, but the part about giving his cat away made me cry. I gave him $50 & explained if the weather was frightful, as it can be in Portland, he could sleep at Post Apocalyptic Bohemia.
The Husband, who has the sense of charity of a nun, went further & allowed RCK to shower & do his laundry at our home. The Husband made RCK his project & took to giving him rides to appointments & treatments. He helped RCK acquire a small subsidized apartment & moved him in. RCK got Henry back & all seemed to be hopeful for just a moment.
RCK's misfortune managed to somehow continue as he lost the apartment, his laptop was stolen, his cell phone disappeared, along with any promise of confidence or hopefulness.
The Husband fixed a really sweet little bedroom for RCK in our basement, against my wishes. RCK & Henry moved in this spring. It all went better than I would have ever assumed. RCK insisted that he was clean & was tested weekly.
He would leave in the evening & sometimes not reappear for days. Yet, RCK was kind to the dogs & he cleaned the house like no one ever had. When he was present he cleaned daily, including waxing the cork floors in the kitchen, Murphy’s soap on the hardwoods, the bathroom sparkled, the ceilings de-cobwebbed; he even washed & disinfected the garbage cans. He washed, dried & folded our laundry nearly every day that he was at the house. It was not really a surprise, when RCK had a home it was spic & span spotless. I was uneasy, but could hardly be unhappy with his residency.
Poor Henry had to live in the basement because Junior the dog desires to kill him. Henry will sometimes sit on the landing & Junior will smell him & whine & growl on the other side of the basement door. We would keep the dogs inside & allow Henry to be in the back garden & in the Boys’ Fort. He loves to be with us & sit in the sun. Henry is at least 16 years old. He is a very primordial, perspicacious, prudent & peaceful pussy.
RCK traveled to another city in the Willamette Valley on a late August evening. He did something bad. Very Bad. He is now an inmate at a county jail awaiting trial. He will most likely go to prison. I can't imagine how frightened he is right now.
Henry is still with us, still in the basement. I sat with him in the Boys' Fort on this perfect first day of autumn. He purred. Junior sat in the window, wounded by attention paid to his feline nemesis.
Before Larry Dog left us on Sunday, we had 2 months of actually having 3 dogs & a cat at Post apocalyptic Bohemia. I remain surprised we were not tapped for Animal Hoarders on TLC.
RCK plopped into our lives on Memorial Day weekend, the very start of the summer of 2007. Summer 2007 was pitched perfectly. Each day brought temperatures in the high 80s, incandescent afternoon sun in the cerulean sky reflected back on the slate colored Willamette & Columbia Rivers. The 3 of us would spend every free afternoon naked on the beach at Sauvie Island. The Husband was mahogany by Labor Day, & even my redhead PSF 70 skin turned the color of toast. Our trio would sun, read, walk on the beach, sip vodka lemonade & smoke some pot. We would return to town in the evening to nap in the Boys’ Fort before going bar hopping at night.
Our relationship with RCK ended as the summer of 2007 ended, on Labor Day weekend & it ended badly. A terrible riff developed between RCK & The Husband & because I always have my husband’s back, I took his position. I wouldn't have it any other way.
Through the years RCK would call me or email me asking for a get together, but I never seemed to find the time & eventually he informed me that I just wasn’t a good enough friend to continue, news to me since I had understood that we were quitsville.
RCK had met a new friend after our days together. This friend's name is Crystal Methamphetamine & she is a real bitch. RCK eventually lost his job, his home, his much loved Cadillac, his motorcycle & all his friends. He contacted me a year ago begging me to meet him somewhere, insisting that he needed to see me.
At a café in my neighborhood, RCK told the tale of loosing it all, sleeping in parks & under bridges, nights in jail, a suicide attempt & having to give away his beloved feline Henry. I can be a tough cookie, but the part about giving his cat away made me cry. I gave him $50 & explained if the weather was frightful, as it can be in Portland, he could sleep at Post Apocalyptic Bohemia.
The Husband, who has the sense of charity of a nun, went further & allowed RCK to shower & do his laundry at our home. The Husband made RCK his project & took to giving him rides to appointments & treatments. He helped RCK acquire a small subsidized apartment & moved him in. RCK got Henry back & all seemed to be hopeful for just a moment.
RCK's misfortune managed to somehow continue as he lost the apartment, his laptop was stolen, his cell phone disappeared, along with any promise of confidence or hopefulness.
The Husband fixed a really sweet little bedroom for RCK in our basement, against my wishes. RCK & Henry moved in this spring. It all went better than I would have ever assumed. RCK insisted that he was clean & was tested weekly.
He would leave in the evening & sometimes not reappear for days. Yet, RCK was kind to the dogs & he cleaned the house like no one ever had. When he was present he cleaned daily, including waxing the cork floors in the kitchen, Murphy’s soap on the hardwoods, the bathroom sparkled, the ceilings de-cobwebbed; he even washed & disinfected the garbage cans. He washed, dried & folded our laundry nearly every day that he was at the house. It was not really a surprise, when RCK had a home it was spic & span spotless. I was uneasy, but could hardly be unhappy with his residency.
Poor Henry had to live in the basement because Junior the dog desires to kill him. Henry will sometimes sit on the landing & Junior will smell him & whine & growl on the other side of the basement door. We would keep the dogs inside & allow Henry to be in the back garden & in the Boys’ Fort. He loves to be with us & sit in the sun. Henry is at least 16 years old. He is a very primordial, perspicacious, prudent & peaceful pussy.
RCK traveled to another city in the Willamette Valley on a late August evening. He did something bad. Very Bad. He is now an inmate at a county jail awaiting trial. He will most likely go to prison. I can't imagine how frightened he is right now.
Henry is still with us, still in the basement. I sat with him in the Boys' Fort on this perfect first day of autumn. He purred. Junior sat in the window, wounded by attention paid to his feline nemesis.
Before Larry Dog left us on Sunday, we had 2 months of actually having 3 dogs & a cat at Post apocalyptic Bohemia. I remain surprised we were not tapped for Animal Hoarders on TLC.
