Yesterday I was listening to the radio while sewing and heard an ad for a new club that’s opening in the Warehouse District. The formerly hep Sixth Street is no longer where it’s at; now all the cool kids go to the Warehouse District. Anyway, the commercial mentioned that Saturday night, DJ so-and-so would be spinning.<\/p>\n
DJ so-and-so was a pretty good friend of mine about 10 years ago. He was always a bad boy; when we met he was under electronic surveillance as a condition of his probation. He spent some time in jail later on for credit card fraud. He was tall and very well dressed and very handsome and I had a Thing for him. Since he had that electronic surveillance thing on his ankle, he couldn’t go out at night so I would go hang out at his house and we’d play Tetris until the wee small hours. No, that is not a euphemism, we’d really play Nintendo games until 3.<\/p>\n
Later on, he asked if I could put a friend of his up for a while until he found his own place. I agreed, and said friend ended up robbing me and cleaning me out of every damn thing I had that was small enough to fit into a car. A blender. A sleeping bag. Beer from the fridge. Everything. The police couldn’t do anything about it (they said) because the fingerprints would be inconclusive since the friend was staying there. Doesn’t matter that he asked the garage apartment neighbor for a ladder, claiming he lost his key and wanted to go in through a window. This all happened the week before I moved to Austin and on the plus side, I was able to rent a smaller U-Haul and I had much, much less boxes to pack.<\/p>\n
DJ so-and-so and I remained friends for a few years. Eventually I told him to jump off a ledge, after the umpteenth time that he stood me up or let me down or used me. A few years later I ran into his little sister at a party. She was just as nice as always, and I was glad to have seen her.<\/p>\n
As for the burglarizing friend, I got an anonymous phone call from a girl that he had done wrong by, saying that he was the one who took the stuff and what pawn shop it was in. I told the police, who didn’t give a shit. 5 or so years later I saw the guy at a club. I was too upset to say anything to him, and he didn’t know it was me standing in front of him, but I did manage to step backwards and dig a spike heel into his instep. Oops.<\/p>\n
I noticed on publicdata.com that he’s serving jail time. That gives me a warm fuzzy feeling inside.<\/p>\n
Speaking of cops not doing anything, that reminds me of the time that I heard my car alarm going off at 3 am, ran out to see that someone had broken the window, called the cops, and waited… and waited… and waited… for an hour and a half. I called them again, they said they might get someone over that night, maybe. I told them not to bother since nothing was stolen. At that same apartment complex there would occasionally be a bum who would camp out in the courtyard and snooze at night. The cops were pretty slow in getting that taken care of as well.<\/p>\n