by Shaun Keating

Created on: July 07, 2008

The events that follow transpired in 2004 during my last year of college. Some back-story is needed here to give you a picture of the house and environment in which I lived throughout the 2003-2004 school year.

As was my custom, I waited until the last weeks of summer to search for housing for the next year. I liked this procrastinary method better than planning ahead because (a) a lot of smokin' deals appeared in that last rush to find housing and (b) the renters who posted their available rooms at this point were desperate to find roommates so the process normally went a lot faster due to the fact that most were not interested in doing background checks or in calling previous landlords. This was ideal for me because I could have a home within a matter of days or hours in some cases and also because my record with landlords was not exceptionally good nor did I ever save my old landlord's information.

I ended up signing a lease with a girl whose wealthy family was from Rancho Santa Fe and had purchased a brand new two story home in a nice, recently constructed suburban nightmare development that literally looked like Wisteria Lane. We would be the first people to live in this house. This particular house, and the rest of the houses in the development, were built during the huge real estate boom that occurred several years ago. So while the homes appeared nice on the outside, they were built as quickly and as cheaply as possible so the contractors and developers could sell them for a maximum profit and cash in on the outrageous prices. One of the main downfalls to this was that the appliances were super janky and broke often. Another was that the walls and second story floors were paper thin. You could hear everythingeverything.

I have countless stories from this home: there was a garage in back of the house that had a studio on top where a pot smoking hippie lived. He would emerge ever so often, like a rare snow leopard, eyes bloodshot and half-open, face drooping, mouth slack and wordlessly enter our living room and pass out on our couch while we watched TV. But none of these accounts deserve an entire story except for one or two and none were as epic as the one which I am about to relay to you this very moment.

But first I have to tell you about the other roommates. I could write paragraph upon paragraph about their amazing lives, the little encounters I had with each of them that made me cherish their memory, rejoice in my excellent choice of living spaces and

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