I once knew a guy named David …
He was a nice fellow, a member of my Dungeons and Dragons gaming group. One day he announced that his fiancee dumped him, he had a crappy job that paid peanuts so he couldn’t afford his own apartment, and his stepmother hated him so he couldn’t move back in with Dad. He asked for help, just a couch to crash for a few weeks, but no one stepped up. Looked like the streets for him.
So I took him in, but I bet you had already figured that was going to happen.
He got his own room, and no bills. The deal was that he saved up six months take home pay before he found his own place so he would never be that kind of helpless again. Then he would walk his own path.
The arrangement lasted about a year. Then David took to coming home pretty well lit from the cheap beer he would buy at cheap bars, which didn’t bother me in the slightest. What irked is that he would have these massive (ahem) movements while drunk, so massive that the pipes couldn’t gulp it all down in one go.
He would refrain from taking care of the problem for fear that his drunken lack of coordination would make pungent matters worse, which was probably a good idea. But that left me to tend to the stinky stew, which was not a good idea in any way. I eventually got tired of plunging another man’s stool, and informed David that it was time for him to get his own place even if he had yet to save up the target amount. We parted amicably, and kept in touch.
David bounced around some after that. Met a woman named Erica, got married, moved to another state to follow a job, moved again when a better job came along. Eventually they settled in a small town named Big Spring, Texas.
Back in Ohio, I was wondering what was going to happen next.
Jobs had dried up, the large number of colleges and universities kept graduating people with degrees which kept wages low through competition, and the best I could find was something that just barely paid the bills.
For more than two decades, all of the money which could have gone into a retirement fund was instead spent on my charity self defense course. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but seems less so now that I have passed the 50 year mark. I’ve been trying for the past half decade to find something better, but no dice. Nothing bad has happened, and nothing bad will happen while I can still work. Except now I can see the day when I will get too old to work anymore.
Might be a good idea to pull up stakes and try someplace with a growing job market but I had no money to get there, and no one to take me in until I got back on my feet. Except, of course, that last isn’t entirely true.
You see, I know this guy named David …
(I wrote this post because Siergen asked why I chose to move to Big Spring, Texas.)