The Eviction Fiasco (part 6)

[BRINDLEKIN TALES – Book 5: Chapter 23]

Subject: Throwing in the Towel (to keep the pups warm and dry)
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 5, 2022 at 2:29 PM

Deek just dropped by this morning, handed me seven devices to charge, and asked me for a towel to dry off the doggies, and a drink. I hugged them, they were wet but warm…not a sign of a shiver thank Cthulhu. When I returned with a cup of ginger ale and a bath towel, I told him I only have TWO towels left, and that he needs to find towels and anything else that’ll work, such as large shirts and sweaters. Just give them to me, and I’ll keep a stash. Flaco was seated in his lap, gazing at me with sweet fervor…and Lucky was curled up on an old jacket, SHIVERING!

So I told him to PLEASE cover Lucky with that towel or SOMEthing, he’s shaking from the cold! He said okay, then said he has a really big favor to ask. I bet you can’t imagine what THAT means, Wattson!

Yes, he wanted Thursday’s allowance today. I lowered my cranium and placed a hand over my face in brotherly dismay.

“You know I’m in deep doo-doo right now, and I really shouldn’t be giving you ANY more money ’cause I need it for this legal crisis, but I’ll do it anyway because you and the dogs come first, ALWAYS!” I dropped my hand from my craggy old mug, took a prolonged, deep breath and assured him:

“Though my situation looks bad right now, I promise: I WILL come out of this smelling like a rose! Now, I gotta go back upstairs, get my wallet, and scoot off to the bank.”

“Bring me a C-cord, too, when you get back,” he added just before I disappeared behind the gate.

“Aye, aye, cap’n,” I replied.

Upon my return, I handed him the cash and reiterated that he needs to collect towels, large shirts and sweaters to keep the doggies dry and warm, and I will stash whatever he brings me, upstairs. I hope it sticks even though, as he said in reply:

“The rains should end later today.” (Which is true, but what about being prepared for such little emergencies? I thought, but did not vocalize.)

I want to note here, good physician, that Deek hasn’t acted the least bit worried about my dilemma. Not that he’s blasé about it, but seems to harbor a secret, one that tells him all shall work out fantastic for me…and by association, himself and the pups. When I brought up my need to hold onto my moolah because of my legal predicament, he calmly replied:

“You don’t NEED a lawyer, you don’t even need the law. You just need the lord.”

“True enough,” I answered. “In fact I LIKE very much what you just said. But haven’t you ever heard the saying god helps those who help themselves?”

He did not reply, but just smiled and hummed to himself while puttering about the cart…as if he were actually a very HAPPY man all his life, and his prolific temper tantrums over the years were simply an act for my benefit, that I learn better how to trust the Great Spirit more, and worry less! Which is EXACTLY what I’ve concluded many moons ago, so it’s just a matter of a little more fine tuning, and then voila I’m there. Which victory I predict is due shortly, like any time between NOW and several weeks hence…the Pride March June 25th, and my 72nd birthday one week later. Auspicious!

Deek continued to mutter bemusedly while still rummaging through his shopping cart, some of whose words reached my ears:

“Zeke’s gonna march at the head of the pride parade this year, ha-ha, gimme a break…king Zeke, king Zeke!”

After babbling on to himself a few more minutes (none of which words reached my ear except for that line above), he turned to me and spouted a wad of BS about Michael Savage, Nostradamus and some televangelist predicting the world’s end this year (after he did the same for 2020). I knew that, of course, he was simply trying to press my buttons…something which apparently is his favorite pastime. But I didn’t fall for it, didn’t get caught up in frustration that he shouldn’t listen to evil people, they’re full of crap. Instead, I interrupted him with the following:

“Look, Deek, I KNOW you’re one of my guardian angels, so please don’t stop being an asshole until I’ve learned all my lessons!”

He did not respond, but just looked down at his feet and grinned with immense pleasure as I walked to the gate, opened it and, just before vanishing, called to him:

“That was a good comeback, Deek, admit it!”

Some time during this morning’s visit–though AFTER I brought the towel down—I stepped back outside to replace the C-cord I gave him, with a REAL C-cord because I had inadvertently given him a standard cord. You have to look really close at the tiny plug to discern which is which. To my surprise his hands were drenched in purple dye of some sort, and he was attempting to wipe it off with the towel I just gave him.

“Careful, Deek,” I warned him. “That dye could be toxic on a dog’s skin, so you can’t use it to dry them any more.”

He just ignored me and went on attempting to remove the dye, but with little success. So I ran back upstairs to bring him a small bottle of hand sanitizer that’s been sitting on the shelf for a good year. It worked to remove SOME of the stain, so I advised him to keep trying. He then playfully air-slapped me with his purple palms several times: “Boom!” he said. “Boom! Boom! Boom!”

I just stood there, calmly enjoying his mischievous prank, then said “That’s all the sanitizer I have, Deek. But I’m sure many other people on the streets have some to share, if you need more to clean up those hands.”

I realized later that purple IS the royal color, a symbol of divinity, the crown chakra and godhead. I have NO idea how he acquired the dye, nor what he was using it for, BTW. It just suddenly appeared on his hands, from MY perspective!

As a trickster par excellence, he did that INTENTIONALLY to press my buttons about keeping the towel safe for the hounds. I did NOT lose my marbles, but patiently cautioned him, then dropped the matter entirely.

Finally, the two smartphones were fully charged, so I brought his three battery packs, single speaker, and two phones back downstairs, thinking he’d be pleased I didn’t wait till he called at my window for them. Alas, not so:

“Why are you bringing them to me now?” he frowned. “I was gonna go to the Chevron station first and pick up some food.”

“Oh I didn’t think of that, Deek,” I replied, then sighed: “Okay, I’ll bring them back upstairs and plug ’em in again.”

“Never mind,” he replied. “You’re good, and have a bless-ed day, Zeke.”

“Thanks, you too,” I said, then returned hovel.

A few minutes later I notice that headset he gave me to charge, still hooked up to the USB hub…I FORGOT TO RETURN IT! So I unplugged it, donned my thongs in a rush and hurried downstairs without a jacket or a hat, and it was drizzling outside.

Upon exiting the gate, I saw he and mutts were gone…then I peered up the block towards Castro Street and espied them from a distance. So I trotted as speedily as possible with floppy footwear that slipped off a couple times before I caught up with him.

“Deek! Deek! I forgot this!” I hollered to stop him from crossing the street. But I need not have worried about that, because he was actually rummaging through a trash bin for recyclables. He and the pups turned to look at me, as I approached and handed him the headset.

“Why are you doing this?” he griped, “I’m busy working right now.”

“So am I, Deek,” I retorted. “It’s not like I sit in my room twiddling my thumbs until you show up to give me chores to do! I’m busting my balls these days!”

No reply forthcoming, he returned to pawing through the bin, while I hugged and pet the doggies before waddling on homeward.

Deek IS one of my bodhisattva guardians, a taskmaster putting me through my paces. Like a buddhist monk in training, an acolyte, a “grasshopper” if you will, instructed to take on any task so mandated, no matter how petty, grueling, pesky or repulsive…with gratitude and joy, not a WHIT of complaint, resistance or sluggish behavior in carrying them out. And in so doing, I finally shed any remaining vestige of a negative reflex.


Likewise for my bodhisattva teachers who’ve triggered the eviction fiasco. I am squeezed between BOTH taskmasters (Deek AND Kevin), juggling all their challenges with the most effort, respect and appreciation I can muster up…and NOT act upon any negative emotion that might erupt with any new obstacle they hurl my way (such as Ablahablah’s attorney refusing my rent check, just when I was easing back into comfort mode). Knowing now why all this seemingly cruel or thoughtless energy is coming down on me, fast and frequent…I AM ALMOST THERE! Meaning my personal liberation, of course.

None of my antagonists ARE cruel or thoughtless, actually. That is my OWN wrongful interpretation that I must correct by perceiving them as my TEACHERS, and that we have no enemies whatsoever. And the way THROUGH this to a successful, joyful outcome is to shed ANY further resentment, fear or other negative emotion and keep striving forward with patience, faith and compassion ALL THE WAY AROUND and to EVERYONE in my world, no matter how THEY might behave. Easy peasy, when you think about it.


Wouldn’t even know they’re homeless by their neat clothing and fresh faces…but for their sitting around in the ATM nook, and a shopping cart or two on the sidewalk close by. One young lady was present as well, seated with her back against the right-side wall of the alcove, and boy was she a knockout! Clothed in a sheer black gown like silk, smartly clipped dark brown hair that fell just to her earlobes, like a Roaring ’20s bob…and tastefully adorned with a glittery necklace and wrist band. Not to mention those golden brown pumps gracing her feet like a princess. She couldn’t have been older than 22, and greeted me with a bright “Hello there, Zeke!”

I didn’t pay her any attention at first, since I was focused on loving the brindlekin and reporting to Deek on the smartphone progress. Though once she greeted me, I looked up at her with a kind hello in return. Though I now regret not telling her how smart and lovely she looks. SO important to take every opportunity to speak kind, inspiring words to the homeless. I’ll be sure to do just that, next time I see her.

Four other well-dressed vagabonds were enjoying each other’s company there…in friendly low voices so as not to disturb the sleeping occupants above them. One fellow with bushy blond locks had pulled a mini-sofa over by the ATM alcove, though in front of the railing and not behind, as there wouldn’t be ample room to do that.

Filipino Jay was there, too, delighted to say. Later on I stepped outside for my last smoke of the day, and stood by the bus stop, far enough away so as not to arouse the pups with my presence, only to disappoint them once more by my not welcoming them home. Jay saw me standing there, so I waved for him to come over, which he did, grinning from ear to ear.

“Deek really LOVES you, man…congratulations!” he emoted with glowing enthusiasm. He praised me further with a litany of expressions regarding Deek’s great appreciation of my enduring friendship over these many years. “He said he’d DIE for you if it came to that!”

That was all well and good, Wattson, but the reason I summoned him over was to inform him about the eviction fiasco, which is why I can no loger dog sit Deek’s furry familiars. But he didn’t allow me to get a syllable in edgewise, showering me with incredible kudos and celebratory words. But I did eke out of him that Deek has already informed him of this latest turn in events, so I was comforted to learn that he ALREADY knew, along with numerous other friends of Deek…all homeless, all amazing.

So things are going to reach a crescendo, eventually and a short time from now. IT WILL SOON BE MY TIME TO SHINE, no matter how it all manifests! I have a good idea how it shall evolve in specific scenarios, but you never know with these bodhisattva tricksters…for once they realize you’ve figured out their plans for your “surprise rebirthday party” they’ll turn it into something completely different that you’ll NEVER guess in a billion years. Regardless, one thing that’s guaranteed:


– Zeke K-Holmes

From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 4, 2022 at 7:32 PM

> What would happen if I were to talk to Kevin?

He’d have a heart attack. No, just kidding. I don’t think it would look good if I handed out my phone number to anyone, no matter how fabulous a person they are! He would wonder how many OTHER people have I shared his number with? Likewise, email. He could just say on the phone it’s now in the lawyer’s hand, and hang up. But here’s an idea:

Howz about a printed letter, mailed express delivery? You know, something you did that I wasn’t aware of…though you DO know his name and residency because I’ve discussed the matter with you copiously.

Just make it clear I did NOT suggest you do this. But how, then, would you know the apartment number unless I gave it to you? It’s not included in any of the letters he delivered. Nonetheless I DON’T KNOW if it’s a good idea…I’m on the fence with that one, for now.

If you could track down his phone number and/or address (including apt. #) via some online service, that would take care of the matter very well. Though you’d really have to do, and have PROOF, in case this turn into a BIG court case.

And what about this email? Can it be traced even if we delete it? I think I’m being a bit paranoid, Wattson.

– Zeke K-Holmes

From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 4, 2022 at 8:05 PM

> Okay, well, think about it. I can easily write a letter.

GO FOR IT, THANK YOU! You do NOT have to first pass it through my eyes before sending it off. I trust you IMPLICITLY. Maybe send me a copy of it via email, though I might not have the gumption to read it, anyway. This has all grown WAY too intense for me to digest it all in such a short time!

– Zeke K-Holmes

From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 4, 2022 at 8:37 PM

> So I address him as “Kevin?”

No, that’s a pseudonym I use in my tales. He wouldn’t have a CLUE as to why you’d call him Kevin. I gave you his real name in my previous email, along with his full street address, including apartment number.

From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 5, 2022 at 1:03 PM

> That’s why I asked!

You DO realize, don’t you, that you’re talking to someone whose mind is totally blown and doesn’t at this time know his ass from his elbow, or his dick from an MC Escher optical illusion? Soldier on, Wattson!

From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 5, 2022 at 1:35 PM

> I do.

Rock my world, baby, before they put me in a straitjacket!

Subject: Leave out that link if you don’t think it’s a good idea.
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 5, 2022 at 2:13 PM

If you feel that including a link to my doggie playlist would be less than sterling regarding your letter’s intent, by all means leave it out.

Re: Leave out that link if you don’t think it’s a good idea.
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 5, 2022 at 2:43 PM

> Probably won’t be necessary.

That’s what I thought.

> BTW, there is no overnight mail from up here in the sticks. If I send it Priority on Monday, he’ll get it Wednesday. I know every tick of the clock counts, but that’ll be the fastest for an actual paper letter.

I’m sure the timing of its arrival will be PERFECT, regardless. Because KISMET is on my side no matter what. Let’s see what Mx. Victoria has to say, tomorrow. Maybe I’ll get a call from Bay Area Legal Aid then, too! Imagine if they tell me:

“We CAN’T handle your case, you are too far gone in the process, you blew it by sending their attorney those two emails, and we cannot POSSIBLY rescue you from that jam YOU’VE created by your own arrogant tendency to play lawyer. You, my friend, are BONED!”

Party on like it’s 2999!

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: Haven’t heard back from Kind Warlock, yet, since I emailed him those two letters. Should be interesting when he DOES respond. Maybe he’ll ring me up tonight.

From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 5, 2022 at 2:47 PM

> Are you 71 now, or just 70?

71, I turn 72 this coming July 1st. Can’t believe how DYNAMIC I’ve become at such a late stage. Like I was born old, and grow younger over the years. Perhaps they’ll have to carry me into the courtroom in a teacup because by then I may have morphed into an embryo!

Re: How old…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 5, 2022 at 9:03 PM

> Kevin?

Don’t know, but I’m guessing he’s a bit older than me. Been walking with a stoop the last two years, shuffling along. Wouldn’t be surprised if he were 81 or 82, though.

Subject: Interesting factoid about Kevin Bond
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 6, 2022 at 9:36 AM

He read my book, “Free Me From This Bond,” the year it came out (2013), so he ALREADY knows who you are!

Subject: Is it possible for you…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 6, 2022 at 11:15 AM

…to send me back my email replies to you regarding contacting the resident manager? Not all of them, just the first one, to right before my “MC Escher” reply. I have that one, and all which follow. And I only want my replies, not any that are “from:” your own kind self. They only go back to June 4th at the earliest, perhaps. If not, they’re all dated the 5th.

You can either batch forward them, or copy/paste each one into a single email, which is preferable…include the headers. Thanks!

Re: Is it possible for you…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 6, 2022 at 11:44 AM

> Okay. But it’ll be later today. Gotta get to the P.O., and other vital errands.

Fine, no rush, good doctor. I summon the messenger Hermes, ally to all with prescient minds of goodwill, that you deliver your righteous scroll on wing-ed sandals! Though sneakers or any other footwear are acceptable…he’s no anal retentive clodpoll.

Re: Interesting factoid about Kevin Bond
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 6, 2022 at 12:48 PM

Heh heh: “Free Me From This Bond,” free me from this KEVIN Bond! I NEVER planned it that way. Kismet comes to the rescue once again. BOO-YAH!

Re: Letter to Kevin…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 6, 2022 at 2:53 PM

> on its way as of today. I’ll be tracking it.

I changed my mind, take it back! Ha ha, just kidding. I look very much forward to:

[click here]

Re: Letter to Kevin…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 6, 2022 at 4:11 PM

> Didja read it? Sent it as doc earlier.

Can’t find any attachment on any of your recent emails. If it was sent with your message entitled “Letter to Kevin…” it didn’t come through. Be that as it may:

Microsoft’s “.doc” format may not be readable as I do not have the right software. I DO have a program that’s supposed to read a wide range of formats, but it may not handle the latest .doc version. So:

Can you possibly send it to me in plain text or .rtf format? Or just take a snapshot of it and send it off. Can’t promise I’ll read it any time soon, though…the concept of you sending a letter to Kevin on my behalf weirds me out too much for the nonce. Thanks!

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: Haven’t heard yet from either Mx. Victoria or Bay Area Legal Aid…and it’s almost the end of the work day.

Kevin Bond, Resident Manager
[xxxx] Market St., # 401
San Francisco, CA 9411[x]           

June 6, 2022

Dear Kevin,

My name is [My Dear Wattson], and I live several hours north of you, in Mendocino.

I've been friends with Zeke Krahlin for over ten years. In that time, I've come to know him as a highly intelligent, literate, prodigiously talented and generous guy who has a big heart and a powerful social conscience.

I was shocked and dismayed to learn that there are eviction proceedings against him. I know something of the circumstances, that this has to do with the little dogs he occasionally "babysat."

I do know that he's taken immediate remedial action, informing the fellow who owns the dogs that he, Zeke, can no longer have the dogs in the building, and that it's permanent.

I'm begging you to reconsider the eviction. Zeke will be 72 in less than a month. He has lived at [xxxx] Market St. for over 35 years. He went from youngish to senior citizen in that time. It's his home, and has been for literally half his life.

If the eviction proceeds, he has no place to go, and slim resources. These are the very worst of times to be out on the street, what with the ravages of the pandemic, the sharp rise in violent crime and the steady collapse of social "safety nets." He will be elderly and homeless, a very bad combination. Though he is tough, and nothing if not resourceful, I fear for his life if he is living on the street, and I'm not exaggerating.

Please, please, please don't kick a long-time resident out. Please give him another chance. Surely his age and the decades of being a good, rent-paying, tidy, cooperative tenant outweigh this current problem (the dogs) which has nowbeen completely resolved.

I know for a fact that he keeps his promises, and he promises that if you cancel the eviction this situation will never occur again.

Yours sincerely,

[My Dear Wattson]

P.S.: Zeke did NOT ask me to write this letter! This is entirely my idea.

Subject: Just got two emails from Bay Area Legal Aid!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 6, 2022 at 5:14 PM

Barely a second after I sent my latest missive to you. Here’s the first (I’ve already switched to a pseudonym for her):


Date: Mon, Jun 6, 2022 at 11:32 PM
Subject: Intake housing case
To: Zeke Krahlin

Good afternoon,

Our office received a referral from the Senior Eviction Collective regarding your housing. I would like to do an intake with you over the phone tomorrow morning to see if we can assist you. I will call you at 415-[xxx-xxxx].

Thank you.

Magdalena Elvensborn
Senior Attorney
Bay Area Legal Aid


She also included her phone and fax numbers, and a statement she’s not in the office on Fridays. So I posted back, saying thanks, and I will be expecting her call tomorrow morning. In less than a minute, she posted again:


Perfect. You did not receive any court papers (summons and complaint) yet right?


And I replied:


I got a 3-day notice to quit on May 23rd, and a rejection of my rent payment for this month on June 4th. No 30-day notice yet. Upon receiving the 3-day notice, I sent two emails to their attorney, and sent copies of them to Mx. Victoria of the  Senior Eviction Collective, as well as other documents.

Those two emails I sent to their attorney provide an excellent outline of my situation, and will help to expedite your consideration to hopefully take my case. So I’m now forwarding them to you, separately. Thanks again!


Re: Just got two emails from Bay Area Legal Aid!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 6, 2022 at 5:47 PM

> Well, this is good.

So far.

> Is it definitely arranged that she will call you, and not vice versa?

Well, she said so in her message, so I think “yes.” Whether or not they’ll take on my case remains to be seen, however! What must I do to convince them…dress up as a hunchback jester and crack the funniest jokes anyone has ever heard on planet earth? Maybe do a little chicken dance to embellish the routine and squeeze an extra guffaw or two out of ’em? Any suggestions, Wattson? Do you have a three-pointed hat with bells lying around somewhere that I can borrow?

Re: Just got two emails from Bay Area Legal Aid!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 6, 2022 at 6:56 PM

> Just keep on doing what you’re doing. I know from experience that these helpful pro-bono folks REALLY appreciate someone who is clear, articulate and organized in both speaking and writing. It makes the case SO much more attractive to them, with a higher possibility of success.

I tend to agree with you on that, Wattson. But having just read your outstanding letter to Kevin makes me feel very SAD, because it’s a SAD story to tell! I will probably have SAD dreams tonight and wake up the next morning SAD as a wet cat in the rain. Meanwhile, I’m gonna fix a humble but tasty dinner (as usual) and watch that latest movie from the Jurassic Park Franchise, called “Jurassic World Dominion.”

I feel SAD for the dinosaurs, because I’m one, too. Just kidding, I feel pretty good these days…the anxiety attacks from that eviction bomb exploding in my face have subsided almost entirely. A few  twinges here and there still, but nothing to write home about.

I just walked by my roly-poly quasi-fascist neighbor down the hallway, coming up the stairs as I waited from a short distance for him to reach the 2nd floor, so I could proceed with my march downward. I smiled at him, but he did NOT even look my way. Now I know how Casper the Friendly Ghost feels! “Boo-oo-ooo!”

Some denizens here will be SO glad to get rid of me, though I suspect their own pointless hatred may turn on them soon enough. And I could indeed win my case and remain present to watch the disaster unfold. Unless, of course, they drop all pretense and start acting civil!

I had a great conversation with my Bohemian neighbor, Karlsen, this morning. I saw him seated at the bus stop bench out front, came up to him with a friendly greet, and we took it from there. We talked about esoteric matters, shamanism and how it ties directly into LGBT history and that of the houseless. He also mentioned how he recently met a homeless trans, who spoke brilliantly on many things, but they has cancer of the liver and told Karlsen there’s nothing doctors can do about it. “We must have talked for HOURS!” he declared, and finally stood up after 20 minutes or so chewing the fat, shook my hand and thanked me for a most scintillating discussion.

He wasn’t actually waiting for a bus, but resting there before moving on to Walgreens to pick up some more ibuprofen which he ran out of list night…his arthritis is acting up. I offered to go there for him, but he said no thanks, he’s not in THAT bad a condition. He has NO idea BTW, of my eviction fiasco. Just my rotten luck as usual, to find a new friend in this building, only to have it possibly be ripped away from me…usually it’s because THEY move or die, but this time it may be ME who makes the sudden exit.

I have established over the past year or so, QUITE an impressive social network…mostly among the more stable, friendly vagrants, but also shopkeepers and a few residents in Hotel California North! To have all this come crashing down on me and be forced to depart for Poseidon only knows where, would be a tragedy and tremendous heartbreak.

Especially when that includes my beloved brindlekin, and my friendship with Deek who is growing in leaps and bounds these days, I am SO proud of him! To have to FLEE all that as a matter of survival, punctures my heart with many arrows. Even if I DO get emergency housing in a decent unit, I will no longer have the extra money to help Deek and doggies. In which case I will refuse to ever see them again, out of compassion.

This is all so SAD, I need to stop this Debby Downer act immediately. My path is one of JOY, so I’m gonna raise myself out of this pit of woe and misery, to savor the night, and count my blessings over what a sterling friendship I have in you…and have had for so many years at this point!

And tomorrow I will CONTINUE to be a glowing torch for everyone I meet on life’s journey that never ends, as I have been doing since the day I was born (a Nazi experiment gone shockingly awry) and do so unto eternity. (I was gonna say “unto my very death,” but I don’t really believe in that kinda crap, no matter the “irrevocable” evidence to the contrary.)

So YOU and those you love (including a particular human or two) have a most remarkable, restful evening, and stay away from mountain lions, please. *I* certainly will! And know that:

My magical thinking HAS gotten me out of close scrapes before, no reason it won’t do so again. Fairy dust NEVER runs out if ya got the right mojo!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Two things I would’ve corrected in your letter to Kevin…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 6, 2022 at 11:56 PM

…though they’re minor.

1. We’ve been friends almost TWICE as long as you stated: more like 18 years, not 10. We go back to the year 2004, I think. I wrote “Wattson, My Muse” in 2007.

2. I didn’t dog sit “occasionally,” it was frequently, averaging 2-3 days per week in the past several months. So the “occasionally” remark probably will tick him off. But he gets PO’d at the drop of a hat, anyway. His hatred comes from the fact the dogs’ owner lives on the streets, and towards homeless people in general. Like many residents in this furshlugginer building. They are nasty, spoiled drama queens who try to make anyone not in their clique miserable…they don’t draw a line at how far they’ll go in their wickedness, such that making someone homeless who’s a target of their unwarranted enmity, is but sport for them. Regardless:

You played a powerful card by impressing upon him the horrors of living on the street for someone my age with a meager income, in these violent times…and who’s a dedicated activist for the LGBT impoverished and outcast. He just MIGHT convince Ablahblah’s attorney to back off, by confessing he has no evidence of anyone being bit. And that he ALLOWED me to sit the dogs for many, many months. He might think about this more intensely, as my case progresses…realizing this could wind up backfiring with a lawsuit against his employer.

Because he’ll be ordered by a judge to PROVIDE evidence of a dog bite, and explain exactly WHY he allowed me to sit the dogs for over a year, rather than tell me to not have them over. I don’t think this “tacit permission” issue has even occurred to him, yet. He’s made it sound like I’ve been sneaking the dogs in against his wishes. Which is impossible to do, considering how the building’s laid out, with many residents passing by along the hallways, in the lobby and just outside. Plus, there’s the lobby camera.

So it goes! He probably won’t even mention your letter to me, but keep it to himself. Though maybe, just MAYBE, he’ll give you a call. There is the hint of a butterfly effect your letter may trigger, that will favor yours truly.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Click here for a larger view.

Subject: Bay Area Legal Aid has a branch office near me!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 7, 2022 at 9:24 AM

Just a 5-block walk up Market Street, from my hovel. Housed in the LGBT Community Center. See pic. The charming purple edifice is an adjunct to The Center, and I’m thinking my attorney’s office is located there. BTW I changed her first name pseudonym from Christiana to Magdalena, so her fictional, full name is now “Magdalena Elvensborn.” A nifty mashup of Catholic and pagan mythos: Mary of Magdalena born of Elves!

It’s 9 AM now, I’m waiting on her call, though I don’t expect my phone to ring till 10 AM at the earliest. I just HOPE Deek doesn’t show up while I’m speaking with her! But he’s a trickster, so it’ll probably happen.

The OTHER good thing about your letter, is Kevin now realizes I have stalwart support from someone OTHER than the unhoused. I am thinking it may be good strategy to contact the local queer press regarding my dilemma: “Long Term LGBT Activist Fights Looming Eviction Threat.” What do you think about THAT, Wattson?

I COULD do it myself, though tooting one’s own horn is less impressive than a letter from an enthusiastic admirer. Be that as it may, if you like the idea I’ll give you a rough outline for starters, and we’ll take it from there.

There is also the possibility my fighting this eviction will catapult Brindlekin Tales into the stratosphere, first via local popularity, then rippling outward like a Titan’s roar across the Bay Area and beyond. ESPECIALLY if I get news coverage first.

That IS the lotus blossom of my tales, as described in one of my earliest chapters aptly entitled: “A Lotus Blossoms by the Bay.”

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: So much of these recent, disruptive events strongly hint at this all being contrived to turn me into a hero, a la my Bodhisattva Premise. As I’ve conjectured numerous times in my missives to you, over the span of many moons. Thus, I REALLY have nothing to worry about…it’s all a game of incredible implications and proportion, so let’s have fun in the playing of our roles. YOUR MOVE!

Subject: IF the resident manager SHOULD call you…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 7, 2022 at 9:44 AM

…put your phone on speaker mode and record the conversation with a separate device (like a second smartphone, or a laptop or tablet). Save it in mp3 format and send it off to yours truly! Actually, ANY format works for me. so long as you don’t call me Shirley.

Subject: Ms. Elvensborn must delay her call till 1 PM
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 7, 2022 at 11:00 AM

Just received the following email from her:

“I apologize I have a meeting that is taking way longer than expected, I will have to call you after 1pm. Since you have not been served with court papers, we still have time.”

So I replied:

“Roger that, thank you. I’ll be ready for your call by 1 PM or shortly thereafter.”

FYI I got the “roger that” idea from YOU, comrade Wattson!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Add to this story with your insightful comment:

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: