Are your roommates’ pregnant prostitutes or drug dealers?

January 9th, 2011: During my travels I was kindly invited by a friend of mine to stay with her at her house. The vision in my over imaginative head on how this was going to turn out was so completely off, immediately starting with me being picked up from the bus station…

Entering my friend’s house I was officially introduced to her 2 roommates. Looking around as I rolled my luggage through the living room I felt that perhaps I made a mistake…but at that exact moment, I didn’t know the reasoning behind my internal feelings. Making it to the bedroom to where I was staying, I passed a series of rooms with one room containing an older man in his 60’s looking as if he was buttoning his shirt. This man was one more than her 2 roommates that I just met. Asking my friend Callidora (name changed to protect her identity) on whom that man was, telling me she didn’t know. “How can you not know, he is standing in a bedroom?” I said, making me think that something is not right.

After some mental prying, she then she told me a “piece” of what goes on in this dark house – with other pieces following later in the evening – but never seeming to know the entire pie. Missing pieces, I thought that perhaps I already tasted too much, regretting even asking in the first place, helping me discover during this visit that it is sometimes better…not to know.

I stayed there two of the four days that I originally planned to be there. If I liked to play in the snow from a girl dealing out of a rented room during the weekends or wanted to get a discounted 2 for 1 rate with a pregnant prostitute who also had a strange nightly rental agreement, this place would have been paradise.

Coming to visit Callidora, I sadly didn’t see “her” my entire stay there as she filled her body with the Bolivian marching powder seeming to play Mario Bros and Galaxia the entire nights not requiring any sleep.

I am grateful that the roads I have chosen in my life have thankfully never taking me down any dark alleys - perhaps shady, but never dark. Leaving early, I transformed into a preacher – not of faith, but as a friend…hoping that I can create a spark.

During my stay here, I learned an important lesson that I need to ask more specific questions about friends living arrangements prior to accepting invites…such as, “Are your roommates’ pregnant prostitutes or drug dealers?”