I'm Back

Simon Says:
Yes,I'm back, once again, I'm back. Had a couple years of relative sobriety; I was holding my own pretty good. Then the shit hit the fan. I guess I just can't handle the interminable life style of the sober alcoholic. No matter how hard I try to work the twelve steps of AA it just doesn't work for me. Now my life is a mess once again. It's not hopeless, but I've got a lot of consequences to endure. Legal consequences which I'm not ready to deal with right now.
It all started when my roommate started flipping out. My roommate's name is Ralph Livingston drug addict extraordinaire. I've never seen anyone quite so hell bent on frying his mind and body with illegally obtained prescription drugs and alcohol in my entire career as an alcoholic. Chicken shit bastard too. I had been an unofficial tenant in his apartment for over a year and I watched this guy fall completely apart. I was just dumb enough not to bail when I had a chance.
I saved this guys life one day and what does he do but take advantage of my trust and fuck me over like a dead dog in the street. The whole situation evolved because I didn't recognize the fact that the guy was gay. I've got nothing against gay people, but gay people in denial can be dangerous, to themselves and anyone else unfortunate enough to make their acquaintance.
Last winter I drove this asshole out to Arizona so he could visit with his mother. Then I backtracked to New Mexico to visit my mother. Left him in Arizona and if the timing worked out right I was going to go back to Arizona (20hr drive) and pick him up and head back to Minnesota. When I left him we had a conversation about the trip back to Minnesota and he, "he", suggested that if time got too tight he would be willing to fly into Albuquerque which would save a lot of time on the road for me because I had to do all the driving. I had to do all the driving because Ralph has been faking an affliction from Parkinson's disease for years and he continues to play that charade even with me, to whom it was obvious. I know for a fact that Parkinson's disease can only be diagnosed by the symptoms manifested. The disease can only be definitively diagnosed after death by dissecting the brain. This I got from a PhD. Neuroscientist at the University of Minnesota. Ralph Livingston is a real con man, the real thing. A diagnosis of Parkinson's disease allows for large prescriptions of vicodin and percocet which Ralph is extremely addicted to. It also is an easy way to defraud the government out of Social Security disability benefits and rent subsidies. Ralph just threw all his other medications in a drawer and emptied it in the trash when it would get too full. On top of all the vicodin and percocets, Ralph likes to wear phentynol patches which he get illegally. The guy gets so fucked up he can't walk or talk and it started to fry his brain. When he's not on drugs he's perfectly fine.
Anyway, I called Ralph in Arizona from New Mexico and asked him if he would fly into Albuquerque because I was delayed in New Mexico and there was a severe storm in the mountains. He sounded reluctant on the phone but it was he that had to be back in Minnesota at a certain time to meet with his social worker to defend his rent subsidy and we weren't going to make it. Well he was pissed because I wouldn't drive back to Arizona to pick him up. Ralph had the only key to the apartment and I was heading back to Minnesota. Ralph said he would just fly all the way back and I could pick him up at the airport. I get back to Minnesota and Ralph doesn't show up with the key. I can't get management to let me in because I'm not a legal tenant. Ralph shows up a month later, just to fuck me over because he knew I had nowhere to stay. Well I didn't hang out, I went on to Tennessee to visit an old friend for a couple of weeks and when I got back to Minnesota I had to ask an old girlfriend of mine if I could crash at her house until Ralph got back. I know Ralph was disappointed that he didn't cause me much grief by keeping me locked out of the apartment for a month. He fucked himself over because he didn't make his appointment with his social worker.
Here's an interesting "higher power" story that blessed me during this escapade. I was the chair person for one of the AA meetings at the Dakota Alano club and therefore had a key to the "White House" in Eagan. One week before Ralph finally showed up I went to the apartment and for some reason I thought I would try some of my keys on the door. The first key I tried was the key to the Alano Club and I was completely shocked. The key opened the door like it was made for it. Walla, I was in, understand that I had been living there for over a year and the place was full of my furniture and personal things so I felt I had a right to it, legal tenant or not. I think that would stand up on it's own. But I really think the key thing was an act of my "higher power".
There's much much more to this story so stay tuned. Right now I've got something I've got to do. I'll be back later or tomorrow.