The Story of Fort Worth

So last we were together, I left you with a cliffhanger of a story about living in Fort Worth for a year. I left San Antonio just get get away from there. I was stagnant, stalled, stale, stuck in a rut... I felt trapped. When I made the decision to go to culinary school, I felt like I had awaked from a coma that I had lasted for the previous three years... And with no money, no job, and a mountain of debt, I packed up Gracie, my clothes, my kitchen, my dvd collection, and my memorabilia, sold off everything that I could, and either donated the rest to Goodwill or the dumpster. I gave notice on my apartment and advance notice at both of my jobs (Sales Leader at Bath and Body Works and Sales Associate at Ann Taylor Loft... Ugh!). I told my friends that I was leaving but they didn't believe me. Until they got the invitation to my going away party, that is... Then they said I wouldn't be gone long, and that I'd be back. I went back once for my friend, John's birthday back in January...

So I hit the road to Fort Worth. Why there? I was looking into Le Cordon Bleu in Dallas, and my best friend, Phil, lives in Fort Worth. It was my escape route. So Phil and his pops came down to help me move, but I ended up having more stuff than I thought and we had to come back a couple of weeks alter with a U-Haul.

So I arrived in Fort Worth, move in with Phil and his family (thanks again!) and get a job at Central Market in the Chef's Case as a server--schlepping potato salad for a piddance of a wage and taken advantage of by management. Central Market is a gourmet grocery store similar to Whole Foods, but local to Texas. Roof over my head--check. Job with income--check. It was then time to look into culinary school. As it turns out there are a few culinary schools in the DFW Metroplex, so I looked at the biggies--Le Cordon Bleu, like I mentioned, but also the Art Institute of Dallas. In doing my research, and speaking with co-workers, I discovered The Culinary Institute of America, the Harvard of culinary schools. Comparing the programs at the three, and with my restaurant empire in mind, I knew I had attend The Culinary. It has the Bachelor's degree, which encompasses both cooking and restaurant management. And carrying the repuation that it has, and having it's military heritage, it was the only choice for me.

So all of that aside, back to the drama! I know that's what you want... So I came home one day and Phil and his wife tell me that "we need to talk..." I thought, "crap, they're kicking me out." Well yeah, kinda--they sold the house and we needed to be out by the end of the week! They said I could go with them, but that at the new rental, Gracie would have to stay outside. Gracie is a Princess and an indoor girl... And there was no way I could leave her outside in the Fort Worth heat. She's an Irish breed... Cold weather... So I placed an add to rent a room and got two responses. And so starts the drama...

I moved in with one guy, renting a room for only $250/month for a room and full use of the house. Nice kitchen, big flat-screen tv, fenced-in yard... and I could afford it! It was also closer to work then the other guy. They say, never look a gift horse in the mouth. YES YOU SHOULD! The rent was cheap, because dude was expecting rent in "other forms of payment," shall we say... I only lived there for three weeks. Dude had a revolving door on his bedroom! And he was short, fat, and NOT attractive... Summer teeth... Thing was a pile of molten drama...

While living there, someone smashed out the rear window of my car. Trying to save money, I raised my deductibles to $1k, so my SafeLite wouldn't cover it. I'd have had to pay out of pocket, almost $400. So I went to a junk yard, bought the glass for cheap and they guy installed it. Poorly. Didn't connect the defogger and it leaks in two places. Still today... So I need to find a glass place to remove and re-install the rear window correctly.

So after three weeks, I was still talking to the other guy with a room for rent, and it was still available. It was a little more and a little further from work, but he wasn't trying to get into my pants, either... So in one day, I packed up, left a check and keys on the counter, shouldered stuff in to the truck as hard as I could, and I made a run for it like a battered woman... Couldn't get out fast enough...

Enter Cory and Patrick.

I moved into Cory's house, renting the third bedroom. Patrick was in the other bedroom. They were already friends, and I fit right in. Gay, fabulous, and quirky... We all worked long hours, usually evenings or nights. It worked. It was nice and comfortable. Until it wasn't... Patrick didn't have a car and Cory and/or I, or his co-workers were giving him rides to work, 20 minutes away, one way... I like helping friends out, and he was giving me gas money, but I was just so tired from work and didn't want to leave the house. Eventually, I had to say something... And he bought a car. And started dating Dennis. And up and moved out becuase he coudn't afford the rent... It was kinda off-putting, but I understood why. That was in October. He was done moving out around Halloween. Then came the Cory tragedy...

Cory was having boy drama, especially with one in particular. Patrick and I both thought that this kid was bad news for Cory, but he seemed to be a semi-permanent fixture when it was convenient. Well, I guess that FINALLY ended around the same time that Patirck moved out and Cory was very depressed. I came home from work one Friday night and Cory's truck was in the driveway, but all the lights were off. I thought that was strange, so I started looking around the house and found Cory laying under a pile of clothes on the floor in his closet in the dark... Wimpering... I also found a pile of muscle relaxers, anti-depressants, and other various pills in a pile on the bathroom counter... I flushed them, tried to get Cory to talk and he did, but I was so angry at this stunt... I was on suicide watch all night. The police showed up twice because evidently Cory was texting goodbye-type messages to his friends and family who lived an hour away.

The next morning, a close family friend came and picked up Cory and convinced him to check himself into a psych ward for help. He was there Saturday through Thursday. I went and visited him on Wednesday while he was in and he was all jokes and smiles, telling me he was on new meds that were helping a lot, and he had exercises to do for when felt a depression coming on. So he came home, went back to work the next week, and seemed fine. Working, repainting the hallway, started seeing a new guy who seemed very sweet... Like he was finally in a good place. That was all smoke and mirrors...

To be continued... ;-)