(I'm at that awesome cafe again:-)
When I left Bob and his 'beach', luckily I had some money saved. My friend and resident small time cocaine dealer, Steve helped me move. I was going to look for a small cheap studio. Steve said I could save money living in this huge house of post punk posers and artists. I had enough money to rent the master bedroom with a private bathroom. I had met most of the residents before while performing as a real dancer in San Francisco. I had hooked up with Steve when I met them. He was really into me. He was only a friend.
The people I ended up moving in with were Dave, CL (short for Chicken Legs. His name was Michael), Dave's then girl friend Liz and Steve. I was to live there for the next two years. At 26, Steve was the oldest, at 25, I was next. The others were at least 21 but they referred to us as 'Mom & Dad'. This didn't help my already low self esteem. Liz was a really pretty red head and 21. She was a rich girl slumming with us. She and I were never really friends. (Until 4 years later, I ran into her crystal meth used up ass in a bar. She said I must really work hard to take care of myself because there was no way I could be older than her and look the way I did, lol.)
Within that five bedroom, two living room, 4 bathroom household, we only had one land line phone between us. For the first few months there wasn't even an answering machine. This would cause a lot of problems, confusion and missed calls. I bought a machine two months later.
There were two clubs in town at the time that catered to the new wave, post punk crowd. My roomies and I lived for it. I was always looked down upon, fashion wise because my hair was long, wild, frizzy and it was natural. I wasn't skinny like the emaciated or modelesque stereo type. I wanted so badly to fit in. Every Thursday night all the bathrooms in our house were busy for hours; prepping hair, goth make-up, using mirrors to admire ourselves. We lived for Thursday nights.
But that look didn't really fly at work. It was a boom town still in Silicon Valley in the mid 80's. This little club brought in lonley engineers, meth head bikers and other locals. It was very casual. It was just starting to become a glamorous thing to be a dancer. Richard's lounge had an interesting group of dancers working there. There were sisters. Tiny women Tammi & Cathy. They were both under 5 ft. and each had very long hair, a child and lived in a hotel with black guys who were the baby daddys. (That term hadn't been thrown around yet). There were a pair of black sisters; Honesty & Panther. Both tall and attractive. Honesty was a piece of work. So insecure and a moody meth head. There was a tall, attractive Mexican/Indian looking young dancer named Liz who would be there for a long time. She was very quiet and always did her job well. Then there was Tess. Tess was gorgeous. Tall, fair, slender, around 30. For some reason Tess and I connected. Perhaps because she would listen.
I will write more about Tess later .
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