So...It has been a almost two years since I posted to this blog. A quick update: I have transitioned.Yeah, big change from two years ago. I have a vlog at nateismguru.youtube.com that I talk about my transition a little more often.
My apartment is the shittiest apartment in all of Richmond, and I'm not exaggerating. Actually I should say my former apartment is the shittiest apartment in all of Richmond. I know how I ended up there. It is the type of place where people serve time. If you end up in that apartment something in your life has got to change or is changing. Some people that live there are on the way up and some on on the way down. It has four bedrooms. One bedroom is occupied by a guy who is dying of alcoholism, one bedroom is occupied by a married couple, expecting a special needs child around the end of the month, and the bedroom beside me is occupied by a sociopathic gay couple. They're the reason I decided to start writing this blog again because quite frankly some things have to be written not told. (Oh yeah I should mention that of these five other people in three bedrooms someone is on methadone and everyone is behind on rent.) These are the types of people that end up in this apartment.
Jayson, or gay guy one, is an effeminate over-dramatic flake; I knew that when I let them move in. Really effeminate people kind of get on my nerves, and I've spent time trying to justify this as I am a rather femme male to female transsexual. I have to come to the conclusion that what I mean by effeminate is not what I mean by feminine. Drag queens are effeminate. Valley girls are effeminate. I think it's more that it's a means of being the center of attention than expressing genuine femininity. Jayson is also a drunk, and a drug addict. Phillip the boyfriend is a rather dumb proud to be redneck, another type of person that really gets on my nerves. He is also a drug addict and I suspect he might be dumber than I initially judged.
This story really starts about a month ago. Jayson and Phillip came into the gay bar where I work fucked up out of there minds. Evidently, though I wouldn't really find this out until later that night they snuck in their own bottled drink; I can't remember, something trendy and I don't follow trends. Jayson danced evocatively. That actually is rather an understatement. Jayson was the guy dancing alone on a pole trying to get everyone's attention which when that didn't work he began taking off clothing, which did get the bartenders attention, and got the two of them thrown out. His exposed penis got him barred. What they evidently did not understand was why, while this train wreck is happening I didn't want to stop working to socialize with them. "Why do you act like a stranger, now?" the dumb one asked me, after forcing me to a stop. If you want curt bring my home life into my place of work. I do stay professional and polite.
"Because I work in a very social environment and at home I like to relax and spend time not socializing." I told him. "Also because you get on my nerves, take a good five minutes to describe how you cleaned the toilet, try to have asinine conversations when I am obviously trying to get into my bedroom with my girlfriend, and generally speaking a conversation with you is breath and time that I will never get back" I didn't say.
I knew I was walking into something whenever I got home the moment they got kicked out. When I could hear their music from the curb I started to get an idea of exactly what. I tried to ignore it, even though it was at this point three in the morning and I don't particularly enjoy listening to the same ten songs that we play at work when I am at home, but by four when every five minutes the volume went up noticeably I finally lost my patience and banged on the wall "TURN THE FUCKING MUSIC DOWN OR I'M CALLING THE FUCKING COPS!!" I yelled and actually knocked on of my paintings off the wall. That might have been a mistake but then again I think they were looking for a confrontation because the spent the rest of the night screaming at me through my (deadbolted) door and trying to break in to my room. I'm not interested in repeating everything that they said, but "tranny bitch," and "cunt with a dick" and "I thought you were real!" (though in my opinion real people like to sleep at four in the morning) and "We're not the fucked up ones we don't want to cut off our penises" (another phrase I particularly liked as I think any outside observer would probably disagree with their assessment of being fucked up), are part of it.
After about an hour of this I genuinely started to feel scared, because it was obvious they were not going to stop so I called 911. The cops showed up asked what was going on and took our stories. I told mine. They told theirs. Their version of the story is that I played the loud music, and that they banged on my door so they could get some sleep and that I entered their room to pound their wall. "You turn your music down, and you turn your music down and we'll have no more problems. Right?" The cops said. I could almost see the cops thinking "over dramatic queers," especially since I'm more obviously transsexual when I'm in a state of undress.
Things did quiet down a bit. Jayson and Phillip switched to using low voices and talking through my door threatening my things in the bathroom (I haven't used that toothbrush since) claiming that they were going to see that I was fired, and claiming that the land lord had come by looking for me because I hadn't paid rent. All of which were empty (except perhaps the threat against my toothbrush), though our landlord does occasionally "lose" records of us paying out rent. Then Jayson started making some noise in the bathroom and screamed "She pushed me!" and called the cops back. I of course am sober, lying in my bed with my door deadbolted.
The cops show back up and knock on my door. It takes me a while to respond, I'm undressed and honestly thinking that it might be a ploy to get me to open my bedroom door to Jayson and Phillip, but their arrival did give me a chance to grab my things from the bathroom. We give our separate statements again, mine being basically the same as I've written, and Jayson's being rather convoluted. I could tell the cops didn't really buy his story, but they took the statements anyway and asked if he wanted to press charges, which by the way he has two years to do if he so chooses. They leave again and the music turns back on as loud as before with Jayson screaming along to the same song on repeat; a very melodramatic song that I'm sure had some sort of self-pitying meaning for Jayson, but I could care less.
At seven in the morning they argue briefly whether it is seven in the morning or seven at night which distracts them for a while from me. And when that argument was settled by the sunrise Phillip realizes that it's rather difficult to get any sleep with loud music and they fight with brief intermissions of combined hostility towards me as "We know you've been talking about us at ___, but we set the record straight." Well that was mostly the stupid one talking about that, and I can say that after their performance they certainly did "set the record straight." At ten in the morning they both run out of steam and I had a brief nap before packing a backpack and walking to a friends house to begin a month of couch surfing.
That would be the end of the story but after Thanksgiving all my friends ended up out of town and I spent several uneventful nights trying to remain unnoticed camping in my room, and packing up my belongings because six people, two of them being insane, are too many people to be living in any apartment. Phillip did end up in jail for something unrelated shortly after my story and ended up being barred from the property. he is of course still living there as evidenced by his kicking my door this morning and yelling something about how I should not be short with his mother, whom I haven't met but I'm sure is proud of her son and his dungeon of an apartment that he is living in illegally. So I am couch surfing again until hopefully I get approved for an apartment I applied for with my girlfriend, which is another story in itself. I move the rest of my stuff out on Saturday.
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