Old and Cold

Every time I start to date a new girl I have to take her to meet the families I help and the old women on whom I check.
This is not done so the girl thinks I'm a nice guy - this is done so that she knows I'm not lying when I get a call in the middle of the night and have to leave.
I also do this to show the girl that while I do run night clubs that is not my life.
That my daily life is pretty mundane.

At the beginning of every month I'm particularly busy.
Paying bills, doctors visits, buying groceries, just running errands, whatever - most of the first week of every month is spent getting people ready for the month ahead.

This month it's cold so I decided to buy the older ladies electric blankets to keep them warm.
But I didn't think.
Most of these old ladies wear diapers and most are afraid that they may wet their beds and be electrocuted.
Most of these ladies will not use an electric blanket because of this.
Instead, most have layers of heavy old handmade quilts on their beds.
Sure, these things are nice but how do they get out of bed to pee with twenty pounds of fabric on top of them?

The new girl went along and met these women.
Most of the time they say, "She's too thin.", "She's almost white.", "She's too proper.", "All she has are titties.", "I bet she can't cook.", and so forth.
But they all seem to like the new girl... to a point.
Just so long as I don't stop checking on them because I want to be with her instead.
The new girl also learned not to mention that we checked on any other elderly woman.
These old ladies get jealous - If I do something for one I have to do an equal amount for the next.
These women call each other to brag that I sat with this one, watched a movie with that one, or ate lunch with the other one.
These ladies brag to each other that each is really my favorite.

The other thing the new girl noticed was that I know a lot of hookers and dealers.
The neighborhood surrounding my rentals is not the best in town so these people come with the territory.
"How do you know her?", the new girl asked.
"Ask her.", I said as I bought my Lotto tickets (I know, but it's the only way I stopped going to the casinos to gamble. Spending six dollars a week isn't so bad.)
As this particular un-Pretty Woman-like hooker began to tell stories of how I give her (and other hookers) rides to the clinic, or buy diapers and formula for their kids, or just bring them something to to eat or give them a place to stay without wanting anything in return, "Why would he do that?", the new girl asked.
"He's just crazy.", the hooker replied.
"But everyone here has his back.", she continued.
"Maybe it's because he's from California.", she finally said as she began to make motions to a passing truck from one of the local refineries before jumping in.

Bear Wayne (a local dealer) overheard the conversation.
"John? He's not always a nice guy but he is always a good guy." he said to the new girl.
"Man... you got some change I could hold?", he asked me.
"Nah Nigga'. I'm broker than you.", I said. (The guy just got his 51/50 check so he is not yet broke for the month.)

As the new girl and I were driving to lunch, she just seemed confused.
It's not that she had never seen this side of life before - it's only that she thought it was a side of life to be avoided... to be shunned... to be ignored.
"I wish someone like you was around when my brother got mixed up in that.", she said.
Which is exactly why I still go back.
If no one is around to try to change things - things will never change.

"I told you. I'm prtty boring." I said.
"Nah... you're pretty cool.", she said.
Unlike every other wannabe priss I meet, this girl seems to get it.
Maybe I'll keep this one for a while.