SEVEN MEN
By Cecile Betts

My name is not Snow White but seven men have lived with me, not all at the same time. In order to be able to live on my limited income, I found it necessary to share my home. Several of my friends did it and there was that popular TV series titled Three’s A Crowd , the story about two women and a man who shared an apartment.
I advertised and interviewed and selected Zack. When I specified that I would not permit smoking, alcohol, pets, overnight guests. Zack said, “I like to have an occasional little glass of wine before dinner.” I thought about that and said, “Okay, I’ll write that into our agreement.”
Zack, a tall, heavy man, in his early seventies worked in an office nearby. He was neat, didn’t do much cooking, and spent a lot of time in his recliner in his room watching TV. I soon realized the occasional little glass of wine meant a quart carafe every night. But, since he didn’t disturb me, I didn’t say anything about it. However, he brought in a half gallon of vodka and in a drunken stupor fell out of his chair one night and could not get up from the floor. I called the paramedics who checked his condition and put him back in chair. A short time after that, my lease expired and I found a place I could afford to buy. Zack wanted to move into the new place with me, but I did not permit that. I lived with an alcoholic husband (who finally did quit drinking) and I did not wish to go through that sort of thing with Zack.
The next person who shared my home, Dick, a slender, balding man in his sixties, worked for an exterminating company. During our interview I explained, “There are two things I never discuss with the person who shares my home, one is religion, the other is politics.” Dick, a member of the Jehovah’s Witness church spent his spare time distributing pamphlets published by his church and in going door to door in other communities trying to make converts. He could not say a dozen words without quoting the bible or the brethren. He seemed obsessed about what he called “fornication.”
When he lost his job with the exterminating company he went door to door signing people up for delivery of dairy products. He also sold contracts for legal services and for direct TV. Divorced three times, he had seven children including one son in prison for drug related crimes. He complained that he thought he was paying too much for his room. I said, “Dick, if you are not happy, perhaps you should look for another place.”
Then, when he made an insulting comment, I told him I would give him 30 days notice.
He did not want to move at that time and told me he could stay three months without paying anything and I would have to go to court and get an eviction notice to get him out. He was wrong. There is a California law which states in a situation where there is one lodger and the owner also occupies the premises, if the lodger does not vacate the premises after a thirty day notice he can be arrested for trespassing. Thus it becomes a criminal matter rather than a civil matter.
He must have consulted the lawyers he worked for and he did vacate on time.
Lucky, the third man to share my home, worked as a driver for a limo company. Six feet tall and chubby, he displayed skinny knock-kneed legs below the shorts he wore when not working. He told me had been n officer in the Army, commissioned in the field but had left after serving twelve years. Divorced with no children, he admitted he went through bankruptcy after the divorce. He quit his job after several months and tried to promote several pie in the sky schemes on the internet and finally was unable to pay his share until I gave him a three day notice and then he did come up with the money. The next month I again had to give him a three day notice so I decided I’d be better off without him. He told me every story, a check was lost, it took time to get it replaced, then it was an out of state check and would take two weeks to clear. When I confronted him, he admitted there was no check and he was broke. I told him he’d have to move since I could not afford to provide him with free housing. I had to put new carpet in that room after Lucky left as he’d evidently spilled a lot of a red liquid.
Mick, an Iranian taxi driver moved in a few days after Lucky moved out. Mick, separated but not divorced from his wife, had a daughter and granddaughter nearby. He also had a nephew who owned a liquor store in Huntington Beach. He worked for his nephew for a while in addition to driving a cab. He left early in the morning and returned late at night. He was always polite and clean. But after seven months, he left to return to Iran to look after his business interests there.
Bob, number five, had been staying with his mother who only had a one bedroom unit. Retired from a career as food service manager for a national hotel chain, tall and painfully thin, he always had a glass of ice water in his hand. He complained of an ailment which required him to take large amounts of a potassium supplement which necessitated that he drink much water. After eight months, he decided to return to Arizona and asked me to give him part of his security deposit two weeks before he left. I did so, and a few weeks later found he’d put nearly $2000 in long distance calls on my phone.
Tim, another Iranian gentleman, in his early fifties, divorced with one child, seemed the perfect person to share my home. A self-employed mechanical engineer, he almost begged me to permit him to help me.
Meanwhile, my friend Nancy, who also had a very nice man for the second bedroom and bath in her unit, had a cat, so did the gentleman. The new cat absolutely terrorized Nancy’s cat. Nancy called me and suggested we swap. I thought about it and we talked it over with the guys. They were agreeable. We each benefited. Tim, despite our agreement had been smoking on the patio, I pointed out that if any of my neighbors complained he would not be able to smoke there. Nancy lived on the third floor of an elevator apartment and he could smoke on the balcony without disturbing anyone. Nancy gained a nice man who did not have a cat. I gained a nice person with a cat and I could enjoy the cat without having to pay vet bills or cleaning a litter box, and Gene, Number 7, had a place to stay where his cat would be welcomed.
Not exactly Doc, Dopey, Sneezy, Sleepy, but each of the seven men who shared my home proved to be very memorable. And lest you think I am prejudiced against females, I did have a woman share my home on two occasions, but that is a separate story and the name of this one is Seven Men.