What is it with me, my family and the brink of Homelessness?!?!!
So my Big Son the Notorious Just G., he had to move out of his studio by January 31st....only he had Nowhere to Move IN.
"Just a minor detail." says Changa with just the right amount of Sarcasm. But swear to God, Not for lack of trying as my G. was going to see 4 houses a day (at least their rooms for rent anyway)...alotta people be movin about in San Francisco so rooms are readily available but quickly taken! Little teeny tiny rooms for $695 a month. So anywayze G. had to be out of his pad by Thursday so Nana, Pop-pops and yours trully traveled North (in a very cushy, silver but rented Chrysler Mini-Van) to get all the 18yr old university student belongings. These including (but not limited too), trumpet & various musical paraphanelia,( one mini yamaha piano), a full fricken futon, trunk, dresser and 6 filled UP newly bought storage totes (both clear and blue - shooot i even got some bungee cords Just in Case). When i got there we started bagging all his clothes and blankets and pillows in big black garbage bags and chucking them down the stairs - which G. thought was both a pretty good idea of mine (rare) and fun! (i strive for all the time) otherwise Up & down the 21 cement stairs we climbed in the fucken freezing San Francisco driving rain and turn the umbrella inside out windy conditions.
So there we were schlepping all this Stuff In the Dark, moving it into the van and down to the shitty motel room for $108 a night (!)but the location: priceless....right at the bottom of the big ass hill on which my Big Son G. used to reside. Yay! We just did safe little loops instead of driving around in scary conditions all over. Nana and Pop-pops patiently waited but were very worried because even when it's Not raining and Dark and there's Always road construction: People drive fast and CRAZY in San Francisco! I thought Arkansas drivers were bad! So this hotel room was our temporary home until someone called back from craigslist with a place to stay. And people, Check out time was 11am. The one basket where All of our eggs were: A landlord named Fezz (really spelled FAIZ) called at 10! Talk about the skin of our teeth. We were just about to rent another hotel room....We were just kinda flying by the seat of our pants and trusting in Them Housefinding Angelz:
they kicked some ass.
G.'s New Abode