I met Rara a few years ago online. We had a nice night together and I got the feeling that possibly a friendship was in the future. Our conversations were about current and pressing issues in which we found that we disagreed a lot but agreed that the disagreement was a good thing because we both were open to hearing what the other had to say.
Time passed and now and then we were able to chat online but we’re never able to duplicate what occurred the first time we met. I was always disappointed in that but felt hopeful because the initial base of our relationship was not shaken.
One time I was worried because Rara mentioned that he had to take his dog and himself out of his partner’s apartment and move on to ‘better pastures.’ I never offered him shelter because he never mentioned the need for it.
A year and a half passed and we connected again online and he mentioned that he was working for Uber eats using the city’s bike share facility. I thought ‘how resourceful.’ If things ever got that bad I have something to fall back on. This time I did ask: ‘Are you ok?’ To which I got the reply: ‘I’m fine. I’m staying in the Bronx near where my ex lives.’
In a few more months Rara revealed to me that he was homeless and living near his ex meant he didn’t go far from his partner after the breakup but ended up living in the streets from that night on. I offered him to come here and spend a few nights if he wanted, wash his clothes and shower. ‘I’m sure the dog would love a warm place to sleep.’ He said: ‘I’ll let you know.’
I never heard from him that night nor for the next two weeks.
He wrote to me: ‘Can I come and take that shower?’ I said: ‘Sure. When do you want to come?’
He replied: ‘I’m not sure sometime this evening. We can go there when I’m close to your area.’
I had no issue with that knowing how hard it is to get around with resources.
‘How is your dog?’
‘I had to give him up. I couldn’t care for him anymore.’
‘Who are we then?’
‘My friend who I’ve known for years. We’re living on the streets together.’
I thought to myself. Wonderful that you’re not alone but the invitation was just for one person. I don’t feel good comfortable with that situation. I relayed all of that to him and it sounded like he shrugged it off. A few weeks later he did take me up on my offer and there he was at my door with two garbage bags of dirty clothes he carried from god knows where.
At that particular time I was pretty broke so the thought of doing laundry was a leisure. Unfortunately, Rara wanted me to pay for everything, his washing, his drying and the soap. I think that he had about 4 loads with him on top of it. I explained that I did not have the money to actually do all of my clothes so we found a compromise. We would do half of his and half of mine. That did not leave any money for the dryers and he decided he was going to go ask a friend close by for money. I thought ok.
He left with an old pair of sweatpants of mine and a blazer. He looked a sight.
Two hours came around and I heard nothing from Rara. I couldn’t wait anymore to decided to hang up my clothes in my apartment. At least they could air dry. I purposefully left his clothes in the dryer because at this point I felt used. I was pretty sure that he was having sex but why didn’t he even call? Morning came around and still no Rara. I had to go into the city and as I walked to the subway, from afar came Rara looking the way he left with a pair of ugly old sweat pants and a decent blazer no shirt and no socks. He reeked of alcohol and God knows what when I stopped to tell him that I had to go to see my mother. It was an emergency and I couldn’t stop to chat. He looked more bewildered than I had ever seen him before but I had to run. I told him that I would be back in 4 hours.
When I came back there he was at the front door waiting. He still smelled of the same substances as before so I urged him to shower when we got upstairs. He took two hours to shower. I laughed to myself that he must have had years of dirt he had to wash off. What irked me was the fact that he did not come out of that bathroom not once. I knocked and knocked trying to see if I could relieve myself but he never opened the door. By then I was livid.
I ran into the bathroom to urinate and heard a loud noise. Rara was angry that I did not do his laundry for him that he threw my vase on the floor and broke it. I am not a fighter and refuse to fight with anyone. I don’t even like to yell but there he was a homeless person screaming in my house about how unfair I was to not finish his laundry and fold and pack them. I laughed at the whole notion.
“Rara, who died and made me your servant? You know that you were in the wrong. I am not your servant. I offered you to come here to do your laundry not to do it for you. I am sorry you feel this way but could you
A. Keep your voice down and B. Go put your laundry in the dryer since you were suppose to get money for just that.”
Telling him to keep his voice down only made his voice louder. He continued his ablutions, went downstairs got his clothes and put them in a bag he came back up to pack everything he had up.
He took another hour before leaving in that time I went into my bedroom so that I would not have to deal with the ugly air hanging between us. I heard the door slam and ran to see what happened and Rara was gone.
He left however a huge mess. All the soil from the potted plants were on the floor as well as the unprotected plants. He left the bathroom soaking wet and to this day I am discovering the things he took with him which were mine.
I saw Rara the other day in the city. Right on 6th. Ave. He looked determined and crazed. He was carrying a paper bag in his hand and used his other hand to hold up his falling pants as he purposefully walked past me. I screamed Rara. He stopped as if he wasn’t sure if that was his name and looked at me vaguely. He wasn’t sure where he knew me from and walked away to his purpose
JE7 