A Surf City Eviction

I tried to fall asleep last night but the threat of eviction disturbed it. Yes  I needed a sleeping pill. Over 1070 on your radio dial, I heard the shots that riddled our city, Huntington Beach. It was placed on video for the public to see.
     It appeared that an off-duty policeman confronted another at the Seven Eleven not far from Warner Avenue and pelted him with bullets seven times. So what else is new, just another obsequious day in our city.  I had written that Surf City has many skin heads, beards, tattoos, electric cigarette running with a screw loose over this city. Many our juiced up and have no control of their actions. Wait a second, that was my daughter.
     "Dad she can't evict you. Aren't you a senior citizen?"
     "Well daughter, as you can see, this Mom and Pop apartment treats us like dirt. Why on labor day, we had no water, security or maintenance. No doubt the manager  has a bad case of OCD along with dementia..."
      "I will put my trust on God, and thank God I have two daughters to take care of their old POP. had girls to take care of their old POP."
 Two weeks later, my daughter took agency. She found me a place about a mile from the Mom and
   Pop apartments.  No far from Talbert off of Magnolia, the complex resembled a village of two story apartments with fir trees covering their roofs. Flowers graced each building with a few golden ponds on the way to the pool next to a Jacuzzi.
   Exhausted and haunted by my first eviction notice, the manger had been crestfallen by the shootings in Vegas and it took all of three hours to sign the lease papers, after she decided to hand me the keys. Now I had taken three buses to get there so I limped to the Taco Bell across the street and treated myself to two regular soft tacos. I savored each bite and as always spoke to myself.
   "Not too shabby George. You hung in there and had the $3,300 packaged neatly into one hundred dollar bills wrapped in a rubber band. No longer are you under the dominion of the Lady in the Cage...You are getting the hang of it when your daughter tells you to take agency. I kissed the third taco as if it were me."
   I savored this day and enjoyed the three buses back to my Mom and Pop apartments across the street from Trader Joes on Main. I did not have the money to buy my ailing brother at the Sea Cliff Health Center but knew he had money in his trust account, maybe enough for a down for a car. Yes I felt jubilant that no longer would anybody to use the words "eviction" that come out of Helen mouth far too often.
   Upstairs on the fourth floor, I kissed the upright and it sprang into action better than ever. Now I had heavy metal over my soul and I played White Christmas a bit early but who gives a hoot. I play the upright and read every night before I turn in. At Mel's nursing home, I had turned on the T.V. and made sure he could watch the baseball game. Mel wished for the Dodgers to make it to another  World Series, and who knows, they just might win one.
  And now that I am on my brother Mel, it is a good time to tweak the nursing center for the lack of transparency, accountability and team work. Still I don't know what Mel is being treated for even though he has not seen a doctor except some dermatologist. Mel had somehow survived the hospice are in area four, but perhaps all could have been avoided.
  Too bad the nursing center is not updated with a password for each patient. As his next of kin, I should be able to hit a button and get a print out of what he is treated for. I have been totally in the dark.
  Oh yes, the Lady in the Cage is my manager who monitors each patron as we leave or enter. Yes, it is much like a jail. Each morning, Stella polished the floors, and sprays everywhere to trick the new tenants into thinking that the entire building  is that way. What a ruse!