1st Apartment

 

In the middle 1960s after I got out of the Navy I worked for Sinclair Refining Company Warehouse on Parrot Avenue in Atlanta.  During this time I moved out of my folks home and into the Bolton Apartments, off of Marietta Blvd in Atlanta.

To help with expenses I took in a roommate, or apartment mate, a co-worker named John.  John stayed gone most of the time.  On the weekends he went to his parents home in mid Georgia.  One time we were watching the State Legislation in a tie vote for Governor between Lester Maddox and Bo Callaway chose Lester because he was a Democrat.   I threw a glass against the wall and broke it, John followed suit.

A Sinclair Service Station/Car Wash owner got our phone number from John the apartment mate and started calling endlessly about everything, politics, economy, you pick the subject he’ll talk hours about it.  I think he was a lonely old man who wanted somebody to talk to.  Well, it wasn’ t to be me.   I had things to do, so I started being rude to him and he faded away.

Once a young Sinclair executive name Don became connected to our office somehow, I’m not sure of what he did.  He would drop by our office and be friendly to everyone and make small talk.  His small talk with me was that he was happily married with a kid, however, he also had a mistress.  And he got around asking me for a key to the apartment so in the daylight while John and I was at work they could drop by for a quickie.  Well, that was his business and the only way it interfered with my way of life, I made sure my bed was made up before I left for work.  I don’t remember what John did about his bed in his room.  He was a natural messy person.

My pyranota cyst return and had to be surgically removed and required several weeks bedrest afterwards.  After my operation I recuperated at my parents home.

When I returned to the apartment, bringing my stuff in the first thing I noticed there was a strange naked young man asleep the tub.  I asked him who the hell was he?  He was John’s cousin.  He had moved in.  Shortly after that  some people, friends of John from his hometown in mid-Geogia moved into the next apartment.  They were loud people.  They ended up moving in the middle of the night, taking my .22 rifle that the man of the house, with them.

I had it.  I moved out, telling John he had better change things into his name because my name was off all things like power and water bills, the apartment, the whole of every thing.  I was out of there.