Sunday, February 24, 2008

Eviction Diction

"I knew we were about to have some problems when they started unpacking framed pictures because who the fuck travels with framed pictures?" my mom said after we had finally gotten them out of the house.

"I also knew I had problems when I had to tell them not to smoke crack in the house," she continued.

Because yeah, if you're gonna smoke crack it has to be outside. Jeez, I thought everyone knew that.

The guests from Hell didn't leave on their own. This is because they were grifters with nowhere to go who totally preyed upon my parents, lured them in and then showed up on Casa dei Sogni's doorstep when they were evicted from their apartment in California. Sam Antonio, Martine and Hartley act as a sort of dysfunctional team of con artists and my parents had no idea.

They met them in the bar of a fancy hotel in Beverly Hills frequented by celebrities. Sam and Martine were rowdy and started buying my parents bottle after bottle of expensive champagne and tipping the hotel employees hundreds. Then they started in with the stories about how Martine was an heiress and Sam was a dot com billionaire trying to popularize his dream of Arena LaCrosse. They had fun and exchanged numbers. Every few weeks or so they would call and invite my parents to new fancy restaurants and go through the same routine of throwing cash at servers and bartenders and draining bottles of rare, high priced vintages. They paid for everything.

This is a technique that con artists use to lure in new prey. They use the money gotten from one con to impress the next victim. Then, once the new victims are hooked they start "forgetting their wallet" or being a little short on cash or needing a little to get by because they aren't liquid and they're waiting on some very complicated bank proceeding. I've seen it a million times and so have my parents, but they are more forgiving of people than I am I guess, or maybe they just really want to believe the best of people. I'm a cynic. I never give anyone the benefit of the doubt.

My parents never saw the rumored Malibu mansions where Sam and Martine said they lived and they would sometimes go weeks without hearing from them at all. This is because they would go broke into between con jobs. They would blow the money as soon as they got it, so during their down times they had to lay low lest they be discovered. Their excuse for not letting my parents see where they lived was that they were renting out the mansions (plural), some other time they were renovating and another time they used the excuse that Sam's ex wife was causing some problems with the ownership. It was all a lie. They rented a shitty apartment in Venice Beach and got thrown out of it.

They showed up because the knew my parents had a nice, big house in Florida (yay lots of drugs and scumbags there!) that they didn't live in full time. They figured my parents would let them live there, so last Sunday, dogs, pictures in frames, seventeen suitcases of trashy clothes, drug addict teenager and all, they arrived and proceeded to wreak utter havoc.

Thursday night my parents went out to dinner with some other friends and they came back home to a disaster. Their dogs had thrown up and had diarrhea all over the bedroom they were locked in while their neglectful owners sat in a bar and got fucked up all day long. Sam and Martine had gotten into a fight and he beat her up. Hartley was naked and strung out on drugs across one of the guest room beds.

Poor old Israeli Uncle Ben Yusef had no idea what to do with himself or how to handle the situation. In the middle of it all my cousin, the one who attends a very prestigious northern university, arrived. It's his Spring Break so naturally he was coming to Florida too. He took a cab from the airport and walked in to find Hartley slung across the bed he was supposed to sleep in, unclad and in a drugged out stupor. It was a bit of an awkward moment.

When my parents got back home Casa dei Sogni looked like the stage of the Jerry Springer show. Martine was all bruised up, dogs were yipping and shitting, Sam Antonio was livid and accusing Martine of stealing his drugs and money and my cousin was trying to get Hartley out of his bed, except he wasn't being very assertive about it and was all like:

"Dude, umm. Dude. Could you like, move, or something?"

So that wasn't really working.

My dad took control of the situation and made Sam and Hartley go outside and sleep in the RV and then he locked them out of the house for the rest of the night. Martine got to sleep in the bed that was full of diarrhea and dog throw up.

In the morning Martine supposedly called her parents to get her a plane ticket back to where she's from in Ohio and my dad packed her up and dropped her off at the airport. Then he had to call Mini-T to get rid of Sam Antonio and Hartley who did not want to leave at all.

I wish I didn't have a job because I had to miss the brutal cussing out that followed. My mother let loose on them and really no one in the world can cuss someone out like my mother. I'm not even sure I can reproduce the exact effect but I think it went something like this:

"Sam Antonio you pathetic Mark Twain looking like piece of mother-fucking shit you should be ashamed. You came into my house - my sacred space that I share with my family that I have not fucked up like you have fucked up yours - and you destroy my property and you disrespect me and my husband and my children and even my god damned dogs and you tried to con me like the fucking low-life, coked out gypsy motherfucker you are. You had the nerve to bring drugs into my house and drink all my god damned liquor and eat all my motherfucking food like that shit belongs to your ass and you think you can just stay here and make me clean up after your whore ass, stripper girlfriend with her nasty herpe mouth and her god awful fake tits. Sam Antonio you're a god damned pedophile - a child molester. You are 62 years old fucking a 24 year old child and you do this and drag your son around making him buy you drugs. You have destroyed this child and that girl and any chance they'll ever have at having a normal decent life, now take your kid and your god damned dogs and your broke, lying, sorry, trifling, pathetic ass and GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE right the fuck now."

It was kind of like that. In real life it was probably better.

Then Mini-T came, and I have to tell you that Mini-T, my big black brother, is very intimidating looking in appearance, especially if you are a 62 year old man who does incidentally look like Mark Twain, if Mark Twain was an alcoholic, coked-out train wreck, or if you are an equally drugged up, depressed Emo kid.

Mini-T got the job done. He just started driving with all their crap loaded into the back of his truck and said they better pick a destination. They were able to contact their new drug dealer, a woman whom they had met the day before in the bar. She lives in Miami and said they could stay with her. Mini-T drove them all the way to South Miami and once they got there Sam Antonio had the nerve to hand Mini-T a dollar, a single dollar bill and say some stupidity like:

"Thanks for helping me out bro. Let me give you a little something."


"Man please, " said Mini-T, "Your broke ass needs that shit way more than I do, bitch."

Back at Casa DS, Martine was plaguing my father with phone calls and texts. She couldn't catch her flight. She supposedly needed $350 because her bags exceeded the limit and because she had to buy a ticket for her rat dog Chanel. She wanted him to come give her the cash. I think what she was trying to do was get some cash and then she would take a cab down to South Miami and hook right back up with Sam and give him the money, which would last about five minutes. I don't think she had any intention of leaving.

Luckily, my dad had a little more sense this time. He told her to get her behind on the plane and he ended up going back to the airport, taking the suitcases with him and promising to ship them to her COD, via UPS once she called and provided an Ohio address. She was not ok with that, but what the hell could she say? My dad did end up having to pay for the dog, but he paid that directly to the ticket agent and it was $75, which he said was worth it to be rid of her.

As he drove back home for the second time my mother made him stop and rent a steam cleaner. It has taken her all weekend to disinfect the house.


the Bag Lady said...

Ah, the good life. Makes the Bag Lady treasure her little ol' stump ranch all the more!! But it is highly entertaining to read about. Thanks for sharing.

Anonymous said...

Thank goodness for your brother Mini-T! Give him a hug for me, too. I'm glad your parents are loving and caring people, but hopefully they'll think a little longer next time before allowing scumbags to move into their home.

Robin in Ohio

Dayna said...

You need to teach them the slogan

Anonymous said...

I'll have too say i thought spending time with you was enlightening. I truely enjoy your company as long as i don't piss you off and keep my clothing on. I have to say that i'm thrilled that your aunt i mean sister or i don't know, but she had sent me this link. I've been blessed to witness just a small taste of what you speak of and the nonsence that you encounter. Your writing is incredible and you should really think of working for comedy T.V (love my name is earl just throwning that in there) not to down play your education and writing skills. Well maybe i'll just shut it down there so i don't end up in one of the blog's again. best wishes and good luck at the casa! rusty brad out.

Marie said...

Thank heavens that your Mom and Dad got rid of the grifters.

Stay well, and here is some light relief for you:

Thank you for the many laughs and your excellent writing.

Ms Bart said...

Rent a steam cleaner? I think it's time for some new bed linens, myself!!

Nanci said...

Wild weekend! I thought I had it rough this time. I am so glad things are finally calming down for you! Hope the apartment is coming along well. Did the cable guy ever come around again? Hope so. Have a great week!

Anonymous said...

How in the hell do people live like that??? Going from one con game to the next- dragging down all the good people that are in their path.
I've seen it SO many times! Makes me want to puke (though not on your brother's bed) tee hee
Hope your parents are a bit more selective in their houseguests!!!

MP said...

WOW... Gotta give mom and dad props for taking charge. I have a feeling that some people weren't as lucky as your mom and dad. Unfortuantly this isn't really a funny post, it's sad that there are people like this..I feel especially bad for the dogs..well and the kid too.

JoeInVegas said...

Um, I could use a place to stay when I go to Florida on vacation. What was your parent's address?

Anonymous said...

Your father showed a lot of patience and class, making sure that immature 24 year old did catch a flight - hopefully back home with family. He even paid for her dog and promised to fedex her extra baggage - now that is proof that he (and your mother) looked through the "hooker" layer and the unhappy, unhealthy and beat up girl, and knew it would mess her up even more to lose the dog and clothes. They did their best to take care of and send her back to family. You have loving parents, and your brother T was quite wonderful in his part too. Hope you guys get some peace for a while.


anom. reader

Wide Lawns said...

Well yeah I agree that it wasnt funny, but I don't always write funny. These events made me mad, so I would say this was an angrier post.

JDogg said...

I hope that this doesn't have a lasting effect on your parents.

NeekoalinAZ said...

Holy Shit! (Pun intended)

Now I know where Mini-T got his mouth. I LOVE your mother!

But lest focus on the important least now you don't have to share your butt roast anymore!

Reb said...

Wow, I can't imagine living life like those people. I can't blame you for being angry either. Glad your Dad got that girl on a plane.

Charlottex said...

I hate it when people think that if you are nice you are a sucker. Your mom sounds a bit like my mom. Sweet as pie but if you disrespect her and her house, god help you! She once made two of my guy friends cry at my 14th birthday party for leaving our house and walking into town without telling anyone. They totally deserved it. I didn't feel sorry for them at all. The funny part is that pretty much all of my friends to this day love my mom but are still scared of her.
Good for you parents for knowing when enough is enough. ANd thank god for a little Mini-T muscle to back it up!

FirstNations said...

holy CRAP.

just, holy CRAP. even.

JoeinVegas said...

Does this mean that the guest room is open for when we make it out to Florida?

misha said...

Can we have a picture of Mini-T. He sounds just like a rather huge Timmy I knew during my devious times in high school.
Your parents also do sound very cool and I am so glad that you are back after your brief (but still too long :) hiatus.

booda baby said...

Wow. That's sort of trippy that your folks didn't detect anything until they arrived. Oh well. At least the whole episode was a swift one. I'm sure it felt like forever, but it really was swift. I guess things go faster when there's dog diarrhea involved. Ha.

karindira said...

Okay, sorry, but weren't there two dogs? What happened to Pirate Pom?

Anonymous said...

You should suggest to your parents that maybe they should perform a google search on some of the people the magnet brings in.

Philosophicalawyer said...

You are just the greatest writer.

Elise said...

I hope that you got to hear what your mom actually said. If it was half as good as what you conjectured, then wow.

Whiskeymarie said...

I know I probably shouldn't love these stories, but I do.
I really do.

Your family is its own reality show.

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