My dad moved around a lot during my early teenage years, all of them pretty dodgy looking places truth be told.
Funnily enough back then these places seemed so far away, yet I’m pretty sure I walk past at least three of those places on my daily commutes to either town or work.
One place in particular I walk past every time I walk home from my Granddads. A room in a shared house sitting above what was back then an open mic-night style pub, Jack Chamms.
At the time, everything was hunky-dory with me but looking back twelve years later I realise how much of an oddity living there must have been for the following reasons.
1: Right above a fucking bar, good luck sleeping on Friday and Saturday nights.
2: The front door was in a dodgy back alley.
3: The landlord ‘Tee’ whilst lovely was an odd chap, I remember he introduced us to the newest tenant and later that night loudly had sex with her, if I rightly recall one of his……’lines’? Was “I’m gonna take you down town to China town, baybay”
4: Same landlord once knocked on my dads door, Dad answers.
Tee only had a box of fireworks and wanted to know if we wanted to set some off with him, so off we go to the buildings car park and set loose fireworks off, all running away giggling.
5: There was a sign on the door demanding that when not in use the door stay shut, locked and bolted.
One unsuspecting day I found out why….
It was a quiet afternoon, me and Dan (Who is explained here) were on the sofa watching a DVD of Linkin Park, live in Texas. I only know this because this memory is forever etched in my brain from the sheer bewilderment of what took place.
I don’t remember what we were talking about, but we were deep in conversation. Suddenly, the conversation veers completely off track as a loud, puffy breathing noise emerges through the door.
Some chubby bloke, with greasy black hair, a pudgy little face and wearing what appeared to be the cheapest denim jeans and jacket he could find had just wandered into the fucking room.
Stinking of stale cigarettes, with his raspy breathing sound as if he had smoke forty Marlborough red per hour, he looked around slowly.
Mine and Dans conversation had now completely subsided for quiet confused laughing, Dan raises his arms confused behind the chap whilst mouthing “Who the fuck is this?”
Heavy breathing guy pick up a pair of boxer shorts from the wash basket and literally holds them close to his nose. Me and Dan are done, the laughing at this point must be obvious.
“Ahhhh, that was a good joke Dan”
Dan said trying to save face in the fact that we could be laughing at our own demise. The heavy breathing guy slowly wanders out the room again.
He breathes heavier and then presumably got upset at our laughing at this random home invasion.
I hear his gross voice echo through the hallway, as I then hear the familiar voice of my dad.
“Mate, what are you doing here?”
I hear him ask
“Uhhhhhhhhhh, looking for my uhhhhhhhhhhhh, sist-uhhhhhhhh”
At this point in time no female tenants lived in the house so that argument was clearly moot. Dad demanded he leave, he did wandering off into the streets and that was quite literally the last we ever saw of him.
Don’t leave your doors open folks.