Thank The Lawd Free At Last!
After many days of ultimatums, threats, yelling and general nonsense for three over 40 gay men to be engaged in. The Saga of Al Coholic has come to a close. It was decided by The Ex that Friday was the day Al was moving out. The Ex would be leaving for work Friday morning and Al would leave with him, for good. I would just as soon have tossed his drunk broke ass yesterday but The Ex couldn't bring himself to do the deed as it were. So I returned home from work more or less ready for bed around midnite but checked in one more time with The ex to make sure everything was said and understood and this situation was resolved as of the morning.
"Honey, you understand that if I wake up tomorrow and he's still in my house I will resolve this issue once and for all, myself?"
"Yes, but he's leaving."
Of course I slept fitfully and finally gave up completely around 9am (!). As soon as I got up The Ex came to me.
"I'm so glad you got up I got up for work and Al Caholic wasn't here I don't know where he is."
This, my friends, is classic addict behavior. You give him a specific sets of instructions and then he makes what, in his mind at least, is an interpretation that will allow him to persue his addiction. In Al's mind, because he was told he had to leave with The Ex, if he wasn't there when The Ex left he wouldn't in turn have to leave. It makes sense if all you want is another day to figure out how you can score more booze. Like this is the first time I've danced this dance. So I sent The Ex off to work and told him I'd take care of it. Hey, he tried. Show of hands of those that didn't know this would fall to me.
About 10am I heard the familiar sounds of keys in the lock and the door opening. Once you get that far if anyone is watching TV in the living room you hear it. I'm sure he was like "oh, shit someone's home" and then the door closed again. Nobody came in. About 10:30 Al came all the way back in and went immediately to his room. I left him to putter around in there for about 1/2 hour. Finally I stood outside his door. I asked,"So, are you here to pick up your things?"
"Yes"
"OK then."
At which point he proceeds to take a shower (a rare event, by the way), get dressed......and....leave! Without his things. This stupid motherfucker thinks he's gonna play me! Me! Girl, I been dealing with drunks and crackheads my whole life. The only time I got played was when I was too crazy myself to stop it. At full strength The Duchess does not get played. So you know I proceeded to leave the apartment, locking the only lock to which I have the only key. I went to the hardware store, purchased a new deadbolt lock, replaced the old deadbolt lock ( fuck, I'm a lesbian) and then piled all the posessions of my broke-ass-jobless-drunken, chicken boiling, gizzard eating, HIV+, cheese using, never leave the house, sex preventing room mate.
And still, several hours later I happened to be looking through the keyhole to see if Al had picked up his things when who appears up the stairs. He gets the note we left him "the $15 is for cab fare, the locks have been changed." (You are the weakest link, goodbye). And still, he tries his old key in the door. As if, this can't be true. I can act like it's not happening and the door.....willl......
I felt horrible. I almost threw up I felt so bad. But I felt like I was in a battle for my home and my sanity and my peace and the kind of life I wan't to life in an inherently crazy, fucked up universe. I needed to make the big call. And I did. May the spirits forgive me.
