I live in an SRO and it's funny because all my life I used to say, when I'm old I want to live in a hotel. I was dreaming more of the Hotel Laguna right on the beach with room service, or something downtown in a city such as San Francisco. I was dreaming of an era that barely existed when I was growing up, but at least I was able to observe it as a child, the era of a thriving middle class. My dad, the son of a Chicago cop, became a corporate lawyer, and the first home I remember living in must have been a mansion, looking back on it. There was even a “ballroom” where my parents threw cocktail parties. I went looking for it in 2011 and found that a Northwest Suburb covers the area where our "house in the woods" used to be.
So that upper crust lifestyle got into my DNA. I grew up with addresses in San Marino, Newport Beach, and for a brief time, Forest Hills New York.
But in 1997, a red headed woman stole the family money, taking advantage of a time when I was kind of reeling, having just found out in 1995 that I Really Had Been Molested by a priest at age five and it was the reason I screwed up everything in my life with sexual compulsions. So I did not defend us, and my mom, sister and me became suddenly poor. Now I find myself living in the strangest places.