What does one say when they find that they may be living in a bordello? That they rent a room while working in the city and perhaps a sourie by day of sex is about? I guess one must first take a glimpse of their past living quarters....
Let's recap to 4 years.
A home where family themselves strip you dry of cash. You barely have enough to eat, they have plenty to vacation with......you plan the escape.
The escape is to a lovely apartment, in a small quaint town. Close enough to the city to get to work, far enough to enjoy the suburbs. A rain or two floods the town and insects...stench...and rotted wood remain. You run for safety...
End up in a home of 6. Kids screaming, parents screaming the only moments peace is when you get off the bus after a 3 hour commute and take the then short drive. By the time you get back from work after spending 14 hours away the food is all gone. Another moments peace is when you drive to the gas station to get coffee and a buttered roll for dinner. You get very sick. Stress is just taking you down. A savior arrives...
You stay with a family friend and the first month you are recovering. Soon after the many faces of one appears. You can't keep up with the personalities, the disorders or the new found knowledge that Bipolar is a scary disease. You plan your escape....it takes months....
You rent a room. The interview is swell. The room is lovely, the perk is that it has it's own entrance. You rush to pack, you rush to move, you sleep like a baby.
There are hints...the company logo on the Internet service. The truth that you never see the roommates during the evening. The lack of jobs yet no need for money. The slew of men you see coming and going on a day you stay home sick. Can it be??? Nah!!!!
You investigate...you get a friend to make calls...you get the answer...You live in a bordello. An ignorant non hooker paying rent to hookers. You plan your escape...it will take months to replenish funds...
You still keep asking...is there a bordello in the house?
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