MISTER HUSSY

Speaking, I mean writing about roommates, my favorite was a tiny red fish named “Scarlette”, whom you can read about in my first book: “Naked Joy”.   If you carefully read each line— you will catch slimy little Scarlette in the swim of things.  She was from the same school as Mark Spitz, Diana Nyad and Michael Phelps; all frog-like creatures who loved reading Huck Fin while doing backstroke.  And at one time or another each played the accordion with “Back Splash”.  Gil Trout, the originator of the group, takes credit for reeling in all this slippery talent.

My least favorite “roomie” was a sociopath called “Terry Van Hussy”, whom I did NOT invite into our Manhattan apartment years ago.  In reality (I must go there now and then) my actual roommate was a southern belle named Rebecca Hannah.  Hailing from Concorde, NC (home of not only the Hannahs but Cannon towels as well), she provided material for several books, once I could decipher her drawl.  She called me “Nanny” and I think down deep she thought I was hers.  I scrubbed the toilets and  lugged home  frozen T.V. dinners, ramen noodles, fruit loops, Miller Lite, Gallo wine and Marlboro Lights  from D’Agostino’s, the neighborhood market.  I also vacuumed under her feet as she puffed away watching “Love Boat” and “Marcus Welby” reruns and answered the phone to fishy callers and snapped open her beers since she had professionally manicured nails.  At night, when she was in town, I read to her from my latest work in progress until she drifted off…

Besides being lazy, Becks was perfect.  A correspondent banker for MANUFACTURERS HANOVER, she was gone most of the time so I had the pad to myself.  UNTIL…

She meets another poor banker down in Heartford,  they fall in love, he gets fired, and she invites him up to live with us.  How can I make this long story short?  Welp, Becks goes on the road, leaving
“Terry Van, the Ladies ‘Man” alone with me.  Only we are not always alone.  Terry likes his beers and bars, so most nights he goes out as I am going to bed.  Around 2:22 a.m. I hear a commotion and he has a “guest” in the next bedroom and they are not quiet.  And I am not happy.

So I confront TV and he is still drunk so   tells me—“I have had 1,000 women in my life, Nanny!”

I think fast and reply.  “So…what number is Becky? 899?” At which point I pack my clothes, books, fake jewels, and vodka and bra collections and move in down the street with my fearless friend Susie Case.  You will also meet and get to know Boozy Susie  in “Naked Joy”, should you wisely choose to buy it.  If you do, please read it and tell all your friends, relatives, co-workers and complete strangers to do the same.  Find room in your heart and home for a struggling new author.

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