evicted is such a harsh word. i guess i prefer ¨asked to leave¨ if i had to choose one. in either case, i have a new place that i am moving into on sunday. my old roomate victor has some serious issues he needs to deal with, like the incredibly large stick stuck up his butt. thus, i am actually pleased that he asked paco and i to leave on saturday. we had been talking about it for over a month but had done nothing. the impetus, of course, is not one i would choose, but as a catalyst, it works.

so the details are really rather benign. last friday night myself and six other proferssors decided to eat dinner and then go back to my apartment and drink a few beers. we bought some beers (probably enough for about five for each person) and headed back to the then empty pad around 8pm. well, about four hours later, some of the folks wanted to go dancing (something which i normally do not like to participate in, but i was severely outnumbered), so we walked on over to a place that has live music on friday nights. live music, in this case, is a guy who plays guitar and takes requests (he is actually really good, but i am not sure what kind of picture you were getting). the ¨stage¨ is not a stage really and the ¨dance floor¨ is just an area where the owners move tables out of the way when people actually show up and request for them to do so.

fortunately, gustavo, the trovador who plays on friday nights, was having girl problems, so he did not show up. i thought we would get to go home and not dance. i was wrong. my friends asked the owners to play some salsa music. i was forced to try salsa dancing. i gave it a go once, and then sat out the rest so i could ¨observe¨ and learn that way. i give myself credit for trying it. those of you who can know how difficult it is, those of you who don´t, take my word for it.

after about an hour we decided to head back to the apartment. we bought six beers from the bar (you can do this there) which was one for each person (we had lost one prof along the way because he was tired) and walked home (no one has a car so driving is never an option, which i like). i guess it was about 1:15am when we arrived home and i noticed that the light in ole victor´s room was on. rather than knock on the door and bother him (incidently, we had only been speaking when there was no option, i.e. good morning, hello, etc. i have not had a conversation with him in over a month) i decided to just go into the other room with my friends. we have two chairs in the house, so most of us were sitting on plastic bags on the floor or standing. i had cleaned up before we left the first time so there was no mess anywhere, just a full trash can. as for a stereo, i have a laptop computer and it serves the purpose. needless to say, it is not and could not be, very loud. but, out of respect, i purposefully turned the music down quite low. as his light was on in his room, i assumed it was not a big deal and if we made too much noise he would tell us and that would be that.

about three minutes after we arrived, he abruptly opens his door and stomps out in his usual weekend attire of a ratty green robe and flip flops, hair still greased (most every guy here puts that gunk in their hair and it still creeps me out) from whatever he had been doing all night and his ¨my first beard¨ beard bristling in the dim light (i had even left the main light off using only the kitchen light). he made some rude comment about being responsible and then turned to me and said basically the same thing. i said ok, and he stalked back into his lair to cry himself to sleep or do whatever his nightly ritual is. the other profs stayed for maybe another 20 minutes, felt awkward, and left.

the next afternoon paco and i swept and mopped the entire apt (something that had not been done for what seemed like over 6 months). as soon as we were finishing, vic, who had apparently been sitting in his room in silence for over an hour while we cleaned his accrued filth, decides to make his entrance. i was walking into my room and so said hello and kept going. he apparently said something to me, which i did not hear, because a moment later he almost yelled (we are about seven feet away even with a wall in between) for me to come back.

he takes up an extremely awkward seated-standing position in this window sill (about 3 feet off the ground and indoor, strange in general) and with cheeks aflame, lays into us. i won´t bother to translate the whole tirade, but basically he was very offended that we would drink and bring people back to our apt (keep in mind there have been 30 empty beer bottles lying on the floor of the patio area where we wash and dry clothes since i moved in over two months ago). he made clear that did not feel comfortable with us or this lifestyle (he apparently stopped drinking the in august) and that since we work together it would be better if found another place to live. he also said that the apartment was not a cantina (bar) but a place to live.

the smirk on my face i made no attempt to hide as he turned to me and i openly laughed as i said ok and walked back to my room. he made some comment which was muffled by the door that slammed in his face.

had paco and i often gone out drinking and bringing people back to the apt late at night, i could understand the problem. this was the very first time that we had ever even invited people over to the apt. first time ever. we have both lived there for about 6 weeks. first time. kiss my ass.

it is clear that vic has issues with us, evidenced by his refusal to speak to us, and nearly everyone else in the world, shown by his complete lack of friends save one, and the general feeling of distaste that everyone else on campus feels toward him. a sad, bitter, overly cologned little man who may or may not one day realize that the closet door is already open and everyone sees him standing in it. come on vic, step on out. the whole world knows, you are the only one still denying it, and this may be what is causing your unpleasant, snooty, bitchy and generally holier-than-thou attitude.

while i am not happy to be evicted, i am happy to be leaving. cut the tie. the bridge is burned (sorry to all those who feel this is a bad idea in general, bridge burning, in this case, it was a necessity).

our new place has a balcony, is across the hall from two other profs who are really cool and is 200 pesos cheaper each month. score. there is only one bathroom, but that is the only real drawback.

it is funny because everyone who found out who i was living with initially warned me he would be weird. i thought they were wrong or just put off by his arrogance. no, he is a loser. they were right. i am quite happy to admit that now that i am finally leaving.

this is the end of book 1. please turn the tape over to begin begin book 2.