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It's time to tell you about where I live.

December 1, 2009, I moved into this house on the outskirts of town- it's a 45 minute walk to my job downtown. The house id owned by a 48 year old man I'll call Papa Bear. He's a very cool guy, very enthusiastic with a lot of energy. He has a white Alaska Husky that's a lot like him, Porter. Porter is very friendly, always shaking his tail and holding a toy in his mouth.

For at least 20 years, Paopa Bear has been friends with an older guy I call Stickman. Stickman has been living here with him ever since he bought the house around 1995. Stickman is around 55 but looks and seems older (though I think he thinks he can pass for 40). He's a second shift nurse and he expects to have the bathroom all to himself for the 2 and a 1/2 hours leading up to the time he leaves for work. He takes insanely long showers and God knows what he does with the rest of the time.

The third and final roommate is a 20 year old coolege student who works part-time but spends most of his days and nights playing computer games. He pays partial rent and Papa Bear buys all his groceries and cooks dinner for him every night. I call him Baby Bear. Between his size and the way that Papa Bear cares for him the name fits perfectly. I like Baby Bear. All he needs to be happy is a computer game, some pot, and maybe some Doritos and Mountian Dew. He's got a good attitude. Like Papa Bear, he's got a good attitude: enthusiastic. It'll be late afternoon after a long day of work, or it'll be 10pm and I'll be in bed so that I can be up at 5am, and I can hear Baby Bear on his headphone/ speaker set, talking to his teammates, and it's very relaxing. It's loud sometimes but it never bothers me; it puts me right to sleep.

Here's how everyone gets along: I get along with everyone. Me and Papa Bear talk a lot. It can be rough sometimes- he's always gotta be right. And he's the dominant dog. Sometimes, too, it seems like he's being contrary on purpose. But that's it. Those are my only complaints, and, anyway, that's what makes him Papa Bear. I'm always happy to talk to him and he's very easygoing and flexible.

If I don't talk with Baby Bear much, it's only because he's almost always at the computer and i don't want to interupt. There are some trust issues as well. For instance, he never owns up to doing anything wrong when Papa bear asks who's the one who did something. On the other hand, I've overheard him rat out Stickman for certain things.

I've gotten along with Stickman but he's gotten crabby with me over stupid shit, like cutting into his bathroom time. But really, it's not that we've clashed so much- I avoid him because I overhear his fights with Papa Bear.

About once every 3 months Stickman will come home from work and get into a shouting match with PB. These fights get loud and ugly. Once, PB yelled that Stickman was a miserable piece of shit with no friends and no teeth. I was listening and laughing into my pillow.

Stickman and Baby get along alright. The have pot in common. But really, I don't think that Baby likes Stickman. I think he's using him for free pot and free cigarettes. Baby helps himself to smokes from both PB's and Stickman's packs when they're not around. I've heard them yell at him but most of the time Baby gets what Baby wants.

I mentioned that I have some trust issues with Baby Bear. It's because of this: For the first 6 months that I lived here, baby was sneaking into my room and taking cigarettes. Now I just said that he'd take cigarettes from the other guys. Well that's different. They had an understanding. Baby would help himself while PB was at work or while Stickman was outside doing yardwork all afternoon.

Baby was taking my cigarettes when I went to take a piss or while I was downstairs for 2 minutes putting my clothes in the dryer. It seemed like sometimes I'd have less cigarettes than I thought but I didn't think anything of it till one day I brought a load of laundry downstairs. As I walked past his room we nodded at each other. When I opened the washer door I could hear squeaking of floorboards directly above me and my bedroom was directly above me. I dropped my socks and rushed up the stairs. Honestly, I didn't want to catch him- that would be too awkward. But I caught his shadow in the hallway. When I got to the top of the stairs he was across the hall in Stickman's room, playing with Porter.

What really confirmed my suspician was one day later that week when I had company but they didn't park in the driveway. Baby came home a few minutes after we did and I was taking a piss. From the hallway you can always tell if someone's in the bathroom- you can hear the fan and you can see light through the door. My friend told me after that he opened the door without knocking, looked surprised to see them, and then said he was looking for a Sharpie to borrow.

So, yeah, I like Baby, but he's a little sneak and that bothers me. I feel like I should visit with him more often, but since i don't trust him I figure, Why bother?


To be continued...