The Tale of the Basement Dweller

When I moved to Colorado, I initially needed someone to help with the rent for a while. Met the person I “fondly” call the “Basement Dweller.” For simplicity’s sake, I’ll refer to him as BD. Now, there was an interesting person!

Lesson No. 1: Do not use a roommate finding service.

My first clue should have been that he described himself as “semi-retired” while in his early 40's. Second clue should have been the “extreme comb-over” that took about half a can of hair spray to keep in place. Third clue, well, when someone tells you they are creating a “light center” so aliens can find him... but I’m getting ahead of this story.

When BD came to meet me as a potential rent sharing person, I’m sure I did a double-take when he said he wasn’t working, but was living off a sizeable settlement he received from a former employer. He even produced a bank statement to prove he had the financial ability to pay rent for an extended period of time. Since there were no other potential roomies, I let him move into the basement bedroom of the house I was renting. My parents were not thrilled I had a man living in the basement. I think they worried about my “virtue.” After meeting him, they no longer had any of those concerns.

I soon learned the reason he decided to stop working and live on his savings was because he was educating himself in everything and anything “new age.” That isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but when that is your sole occupation...

I eventually bought a house, and decided it would be financially to my advantage to let him move with me. OK, I thought I still needed the money. In retrospect, I don’t think I needed it all that bad.

Lesson No. 2: Beware of pyramids.

BD would spend time lying on the roof, contemplating the universe. He would go out in the back yard and hug the trees. Literally. The best one was when he built a pyramid out of pipe in the basement, drew a five pointed star inside it on the floor, and added crystals, rocks, candles, “stuff,” along with a cushion so he could meditate. In the pyramid. After he got it finished, he came upstairs into the living room, and started crawling across the floor, holding his hands about two inches off the floor. Of course, I had to ask what he was doing. (I’m sure you already know!) He was trying to see if he could feel the “energy” coming up through the floor from the top of the pyramid. Then he told me that he was building a “light center” in the basement (now, I have to think a basement would not be an ideal place for “light” anything.) Of course, I asked what might that mean. I learned he was trying to send a signal to the aliens. I was never sure if they were just coming to visit, or coming to take him away.

Then there was the day I came home from work and found he had shaved his head (which was a good thing since it was about 1/3 bald in the first place) and had face paint on. Can I say he scared the devil out of me? Yep, that’s putting it mildly.

I did like his cat. Was a very nice cat. Well, I liked him until he started, um, peepeeing on the carpet in the basement. I sort of lost my fondness for him then.

Lesson No. 3: Always have an exit strategy.

Exit for the renter, that is. After a while, I really didn’t want to deal with his eccentricities any more, but let’s be honest, he had no incentive to leave. So I gave him incentive. We had a guy helping at the greyhound adoption kennel who was truly a PITA. (If you don’t know what that means, I’ll explain it some day.) He needed a place to stay for a short time, I figured BD would not appreciate having to share the house with someone who was actually at the house during the day. I was right! Less than a week, and I found him packing up his stuff and moving on to who knows where. Not too long after that, roomie number 2 moved on. I finally had peace and quiet! I had my house to myself!

It was one of those experiences that you look back and laugh. You also think “whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” And finally, you think, “Ain’t never gonna do THAT again!”

The pyramid is long gone. The basement is now full of books and furniture. I haven’t gone out to hug the trees, I hope they can forgive me. I am a little concerned that the aliens will get a belated signal from the “light center” and stop by. I don’t know what I will tell them, he didn’t leave a forwarding address!