I had no thoughts of packing it in this time and was determined to continue this journey. The next two weeks were spent feverishly searching out new work and living arrangements. A girl I had known from some of the late night parties at the house told me she was buying a place over in Burlington and needed someone to rent out the garage which had been made into an apartment. This was great news and when I saw the place I was even more stoked as it was perfect! Unfortunately there was a catch, she would not rent it to me if I didn’t have a job and finding a new job was proving most difficult. Having gone through four jobs in just over six months, I had developed a bit of a reputation as not so reliable and no offers were coming in. I was fortunate enough to have a friend who said I could crash on his couch until I could get things rolling again and when two weeks were up and I had no job, off to his place I went. Shawn was a young dude who liked to party a bit too much and got a bit too crazy when he did but letting me stay at his place was the coolest thing anyone did for me at the time. Without his help, I never would have made it to the next phase of my adventure.
The first two weeks at Shawn’s place are a blurry haze as we partied every night with just about everything. He had a guy who rented out a room from him and was a cool enough guy but he had a good job and was not into the partying so much, so after two weeks of Shawn and I going at it, he was getting frustrated with things. He told Shawn that he could not put up with it anymore and that at the end of the month either I go or he will. Seeing that my job prospects were not very promising and not wanting to lose his paying tenant, Shawn regretfully informed me that I would have to go in two weeks. Great, now I was back in the same boat as a month ago only this time, I had no one offering a couch to stay on. I spoke with Carrie ( the girl who bought the house ) and she told me the garage was still available and that I could have it on the first so long as I had a job to show I could pay for it. I told Shawn that although I loved to party, I would have to be responsible and sort out a job. I blanketed Mount Vernon, applying for jobs anywhere and everywhere, expanding my range to include big business and corporations. I had previously only applied at small locally owned places fearing that the bigger the business, the better the screening process to find out my predicament. After the first week I had not received even one call back and was beginning to worry, it seemed that I was cursed in Mount Vernon, so I headed across the river and did the same thing in Burlington. As I neared the end of the second week without any call backs, my anxiety was near panic, I had made no contingency plan for after Shawn’s place and I was clueless on what to do next.
Lucky for me, I would not have to cross that bridge as with only two days untill homelessness, the call came. It was a bar-restaurant over in Burlington called the Galley 5 and they were looking for a new bartender. It was perfect! A relaxed and chilled out bar with 3 very cool female bartenders and hopefully me. I met with the manager and she hired me on the spot, but as always seems the case, there was a catch. The owner (who lived out-of-town) was selling the place and there were no guarantees on what the new owners will want. At the moment, this did not concern me and I took the job happily. I left feeling relieved and excited and headed over to Carrie’s house straight away to tell her the news. She was happy for me and even better, still had the garage waiting for me. She gave me the key and told me I could move in whenever I wanted. Well I wanted now, so I went back to Shawn’s and told them the good news, his room-mate (happy to get rid of me) offered to give me a hand moving and within an hour, I was at my new place in Burlington. It was a detached garage remodeled into an apartment. There was a bedroom, toilet, shower and a microwave. I would have to use the house for the full kitchen but that would not be a problem as this was a perfect little party pad.
Work started out like a bang and I was making a killing in tips. It was a big gambling bar and they had a state-run pull tab counter at the bar. It was a scam and most of the time people would lose but as there were lots of people who played, there were usually a few winners and they would tip big! I was averaging 100 bucks in tips every night and before long, I was rolling in the dough. There was also a bit of a drug culture in the bar and I felt right at home in it. This was the best job I would have while in Washington and I was determined to do my best. I got along great with the other bartenders and the manager was just like a second mom. Within a couple of weeks, I felt like one of the family and was nicely settled into my new job and home. Time seemed to zip by and before I knew it, the one year mark since I had left was upon me. I spent the day reflecting on what life had been like the past year and all the crazy situations I had been in. I felt like the luckiest guy on earth that day! How could I have escaped so many times? I began thinking once again that I must have a guardian angel somewhere, and pondered on who it could be. Maybe my grandfather who I had been very close to growing up, maybe my father who passed before I was born, or maybe my good friend who had passed a few years before? I had never been religious and had spent very little time contemplating such matters but with the year I had just experienced, it was hard to understand without some kind of supernatural explanation. I put it out of my mind and went out to party the night away but my curiosity towards spirituality was just beginning.
The spring rapidly turned to summer and the fun kept rolling along. There was another bar-restaurant a few doors down called Hooligan’s and they had three pool tables with a tournament every saturday night. It brought in the best players from the entire Skagit Valley and the competition was tough. Much tougher than the walk overs I got used to at Draft Pic’s, but much more fun and when I would win, it felt that much sweeter. The guy who ran the tournament took ill one week and I stepped in to run things, the following week when he returned he asked if I wanted to do it every week? I was very happy to take it over, besides a free entry into the event, I would also get my choice of 3 pints of beer or a meal from the kitchen. It was a great gig and my Saturday nights were as fun as I had ever known. As if things weren’t good enough, the bartender was a pretty girl named Kyra and she and I hit it off right away. I told her that I was not gonna fall in love with her and she was cool with that and soon we were doing the horizontal bop on a regular basis. I once again thought about my P.O. asking what kind of life I would live on the run, and I found myself popping a smile from ear to ear.
A Continuing Story About Life On The Run