Sunday, October 17, 2010

Life in a hotel

  So I am homeless.  Well, not entirely, but as much as one can be without sleeping in the street.  I have checked myself into a notorious "weekly rate" hotel in Costa Mesa, and am finding the life I have made for myself is not nearly as bad as I thought it would be.  With the family safe and sound in the desert, I set out to try to actually keep a job I loathe, while dodging the inevitable empty bank account.

  Well, I have not had to sleep in the car, nor wash my ass in a gas station.  The constant dance with a zero balance in my bank account continues, but it could be worse.

  First, the hotel itself.  While I imagined living among hookers, molesters, and meth-heads (and did for one night in Anaheim), it is not really like that at all.  Of course those types are here, but with 180+ units I am finding there are a lot of... families.  Like normal, everyday families who for one reason or another, have found themselves encamped here, one missed paycheck from sleeping in the car.

  Second, having read some yelp and yahoo reviews, I can only think those horrible things were written by people who were asked to leave.  And that happens more often than not if there is a problem with the tenant.  For a building that is 40 years old, and renovated 20 years ago, this place is in better shape than some apartments I have occupied in Costa Mesa.  And no one has offered me dope, or a blow-job all week!

.. more to folow

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