10 Month Revolving Door Man
Meet the man that everyone in Chicago has had a 10-month relationship with. Every year he is in a new relationship by Valentines day, and single by Thanksgiving. Starting with the Macy's parade he starts humping everything but the fire hydrant in research for his next 10-month relationship. If you know a man that you get a call once a year every December from he is likely a 10-monther. Your only cure is so give in and date him or move to another city. This man usually has a job that requires early mornings or lots of travel, and the constant view of his back walking out the door is really just foreshadowing the end of your relationship.
I deleted the messages I would usually reply too because there was a much more pressing matter at hand, the only real man in my life: Gucci. And from a domestically challenged man to a fully domesticated one, I returned home to kitty. Upon arriving home I was pleasantly surprised to find that everything was as I left it and no evidence of urine. I turned out all the lights and took out the black light wand. When it comes to Gucci's bladder coming home every night is like the first five minutes of a Law and Order episode.
Gucci followed me around as I scanned the floor of the apartment with the black light. Kitty inspection went well, no urine anywhere, although I did find a left over spaghetti sauce stain next to the desk. Gucci seemed to be happy and well cared for, especially since I left elaborate and whimsical instructions for his care:
Gucci followed me around as I scanned the floor of the apartment with the black light. Kitty inspection went well, no urine anywhere, although I did find a left over spaghetti sauce stain next to the desk. Gucci seemed to be happy and well cared for, especially since I left elaborate and whimsical instructions for his care:
The Perfectionist's Guide to Caring for Kitty
1. Kitty prefers a schedule. Cats are creatures of habit and routine and a prone to OCD tendencies. Therefore, kitty's schedule must be rigidly upheld or he will annoy you and or pee on something expensive. Kitty likes to rise at about three in the morning and go for a run; due to limited space this will involve him running back and forth and making a lot of noise. At five AM sharp he'll attempt to wake you, and once again at six AM. At seven he will climb onto your belly and knead you with his paws this is your last and final warning before he knocks over a lamp.
2. Your day starts with refreshing kitty's water bowl which he has kicked numerous pieces of food into rendering it undrinkable. He will insist this is your fault for inexplicably placing the food bowl near the water bowl. At this time you will also want to ensure that the bottom of the food bowl can not be seen, if this is the case food levels are too low and this will result in kitty chewing through the wire for your iPhone charger
3. Before showering or relieving yourself you must brush and groom kitty. Stick your nose into his coat and inhale. If he smells like fish he is clean, this indicates he has eaten a mouthful of food before grooming himself. If he smells like pee he is dirty and must be dry shampooed before grooming. He will probably bite you when you do this and will expect to be fed his special stinky food after.
4. You are now required to provide kitty with at least twenty minutes of petting lap time. You're not allowed to move even if he digs his claws into you. During this time you are allowed to watch television but only CSPAN, which is kitty's favorite.
5. Finally, it is time for the removal of cat poo and pee from the litter box. First, vacuum the surrounding area of litter that kitty has kicked outside of the box. You must then carefully lift the lid of the box and immediately clean with bleach wipes. Then, use the scoop to skim for hard clumps and flush them. Flatten out and smooth the litter, think of it as kitty's special zen garden.
6. Kitty now insists on being played with for no less than fifteen minutes. You will throw the mousy back and forth until he sits down from exhaustion. He will rest a minute and expect to resume play. You must continue this cycle for the rest of your life.
7. Finally you may leave to tend to matters of lesser importance like your job or social life. But you must return within eight hours or the kitty will panic, eat all of his food and pee on a shoe in his hysteria. Upon returning you must provide more lap and play time.
With my fresh new caribbean tan lines and new years eve approaching I bet you think I had finding some man candy high on the priority list, and you would be one hundred and ten percent right about this. But next the the match.com tab, in an equally desperate browser, was the craigslist job postings. When I returned from the caribbean I was met with some harsh weather and harsher realities. After new years I was going to be off the schedule. Although in an act of inexplicable cheapness I would not be laid off, just simply not scheduled for any shifts or compensated in anyway. It was time to look for a new job.
It was official I had lost everything in the matter of a year. I lost my apartment, my man, and now my job. I thought of where I was a year ago, buying a tuxedo to go to the Equality Illinois gala with my ex, looking at condos, planning a whole life that would never materialize. Burberry shopping sprees, Jonathan Adler, Prada loafers, Pall Malls, bottle service at Pump Room. Now it was designer kitty litter, Home by Target, Pall Malls, and filling out applications at Pump Room. I knew that I'd be back on the schedule in march but there was a part of me that felt the finality of the situation. As I writer I know better than anybody when one chapter is coming to an end. Everything started with the restaurant job. In 2011 when I quit my job medical billing and quit my relationship for a the exciting life of brief tumultuous affairs and cash tips I knew that this was just another chapter and it like everything else would come to an end.
The restaurant was slow anyway this season. The hotel rooms empty, the staff lethargic. I had felt this coming for some time. Maybe it was like a comatose state. My body was alive but my brain had ceased to function. The restaurant had turned me into a zombie, a vegetable. And when it was time to pull the plug I felt nothing. My spirit had already left the building. Emotionally I had lost my job weeks ago, it just took a while for the restaurant to be sure this server was never coming back to life; in a lot of ways it was like all of my relationships upon ending, sudden, unexpected, and draining. My last weeks I saw the light drain out of this place that was once my second home. It longer felt safe, secure, happy and warm. What was left was the cold shell of a restaurant, something sad and hard to look at, like a euthanized dog; it looked like an old friend but there was just nothing left of it.
And my job wasn't the only thing coming to an end. My lease was up in March. It was time to find a new place for me and kitty. I pulled up my Bank of America accounts. I had a CD maturing in two weeks. I had put the money away when I though I would be going to grad school. With the money I could have taken half a year off, traveled, possibly met a husband in Italy. But then I looked at kitty. The thought of moving from apartment to apartment every year, never sure of where we'd live next and if it'd have carpet. No, I needed to find us a home and settle. It was time to find not just an apartment, but a home.
I called up my broker, an old fling from my college days to find me the deals. I though it would be like house hunters where you find the perfect apartment and there's a dramatic bidding war at the end where everyone ends up happy and living in a deliciously furnished town home.
"So this is our first unit, listed at 135," Broker said, holding open the door for me. Lets take the tour of property one, in a very desirable address on Cornelia. Take note of the vintage laminate parquet floors and lackluster tile in the kitchen dating back to the early seventies. These crusty grey wood-ish floorboards will look scrumptious under your shag rug from Brown Elephant. Through the entry way we'll find a scavenged kitchen. Note how not only are there no appliances, but there are no countertops and it looks like they tried to take the ceiling too but it wouldn't come all the way off. Your second hand bedroom set will personalize this already quirky one bedroom, try to ignore the squatters and crackheads that were living here right before the bank came to shoo them out and estimated that this gate way to shabby shabby chic living was worth a hundred and thirty-five thousand dollars. "This is a fixer upper."
"A fixer upper?" I had gone from harsh realities to harsh realty.
"It needs work," the bank agent says.
"It needs more than work. Joan Rivers need work. This apartment needs labor. This apartment needs to go into labor and give birth to all the fugly. It's in shambles. Who was the last tenant Lindsay Lohan?"
"Well, it's the cheapest unit in this building. You wanted a deal, this is unfortunately what you get with most of the bank-owned properties."
"Okay, I changed my mind. I don't want a deal anymore. Show me a hundred year old apartment that some old lady is living in where everything is wrapped in plastic."
"You want to live in Oak Park?"
It didn't get much better there, every condo in every high-rise that was listed for less that 150 either had carpeting, smelled like curry, had a linen closet where the clothes closet should have been, needed new tile in the bathroom, had avocado countertops, or was three hundred dollars for every square foot. Just when I was ready to give up on the condo search altogether we found an oversized condo on the 26th floor of a recently renovated building. It had a dining nook with a lake view, hardwood floors, granite counter tops, stainless steel appliances (all of them) and a 24-hour doorman.
I took one whiff of the enormous gaudy furniture and knew, this was the well preserved dwelling of a nit-picky old lady.
"Give me a pen, I'm writing the check right now."
"You haven't made an offer yet."
"I'm just going to write whatever you want in the box."
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