Eviction done, but will he stay away?

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SheriffBadgeGenericThe Deputies from the civil division were here today, and served the final eviction.  They arrived about 3:30pm, and by 4pm he was out the door and down the street.  I fully expected to see him back before very long, and sure enough, by 6:15pm there he was.

It appears he went to the nearest store and bought some beer, because he was very much more drunk when he came back than when he left.  He tried for a good ten minutes to get his key to work in the lock, but that wasn’t happening, since I changed the lock immediately after he left.  He plopped down in a chair on the porch and just sat there.  I had told him as soon as he started messing with the lock that I had called the police, but that didn’t seem to impress upon him at all.

The Visalia Police arrived within a few minutes of my call, and were confronted with a drunk, uncooperative mess.

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Eviction process in final stages

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It’s down to the wire on the eviction of the relative who just won’t leave.  I have two more documents to file with the court, the proof of service and a request for a Clerk’s judgement.  I’m not sure what happens on the Court side of things once I file those forms, either I have to wait for them to process a judgement, or the clerk I file them with may be able to approve them on the spot (that’s what I’m hoping).  If that’s the case, then I’ll take the paperwork over to the Sheriff’s Civil Division to be served.  At that point, it’s less than 2 weeks before I have my house back.

He’s been here ten years, put four holes in various walls, broke the lid to the toilet tank (how the hell do you break a toilet tank lid??), probably ruined the carpet in his bedroom, knocked the closet doors off their runners (I’ll probably have to replace the whole closet door assembly), More

Monday

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It’s Monday.  It’s been raining.  My work week begins anew.  I really don’t want to get up and out of this nice warm waterbed, but the clock on the computer is warning me I’m already running late.

A positive thing for this week, however, is that the ‘idiot cousin’ will be served with a summons telling him I’ve filed court action to evict him.  Then things start moving faster.  He’s been here ten years.  That’s long enough.

Wednesday I’ll be part of a PFLAG panel speaking at the Visalia Unified School District meeting, on issues facing the LGBTQ community.  I’ve never done anything like that before, so it will be interesting, to say the least.  6:30 pm, at their facility on Atwood, just north of Cypress, behind the VUSD office.

This morning’s wake up call

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So this ‘morning’ (I work nights, so it was about 1:30pm) my ‘wake up call’ was my drunk cousin crashing through my bedroom door. I was in that not-quite-awake, not-quite-asleep mode that lets you be aware of things, but you don’t feel any need to do anything about them. I heard him staggering down the hall, and was doing my best to ignore him, when all of a sudden he comes crashing through my closed and locked door. Fortunately, the hollow-core door flexed enough to allow it to spring open without ripping the jamb or lock out of it’s frame.
He just laid there, refusing to get up, and cussed me, like it was my fault he fell through my door. I finally had to grab him by the feet and physically drag him from my room into his, with him trying to grab on to the doorframe to stop. In the process, I may have injured myself, although at the time it didn’t seem all that strenuous, because my right lower leg is now hurting when I walk. Hopefully it’s just a sprain.
Next week I file the court papers to force eviction. He won’t leave voluntarily, so I’m left with no other option.

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First Step Done: 60 day notice given. Countdown begins.

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I didn’t realize it has been that long.  I let my cousin Tracy move into my home in late 2002, after the death of his mother.  At the time, I told him it was just for a short time, until he could find a place of his own.  That, of course, never happened.  He’s been here nine years, and I’ve reached the end of my rope.  He’s paranoid schizophrenic, and has refused to take his medications for a long time now.  He self medicates with alcohol, until he runs out of money from his SSI check.  He thinks I let people in the house to mess with his stuff, and to steal his food.  Since I refuse to keep food in the house (every dollar I spend in food that he eats frees up a dollar of his to buy more beer), he convinces himself that what he bought was stolen, and that I allow it.  I’ve supposedly given out keys to the house to other people, so they can come in when he’s not here.  The list goes on, and everyone who is a relative of ours, or is a friend of mine, gets listed as the culprit in whatever fantasy he’s concocted.  He’s never been physically violent, only verbally, but I’ve had enough, regardless.

When he moved in, I told him what the situation was.  He knew I was gay, and that meant I might have company from time to time.  He assured me he was cool with that, and at first he was.  Now, I’m apparently fucking everyone that pops into his mind, from his daughter to random strangers passing by.  He rambles on, accusing me of being a “sick gay-lesbian-homosexual” that’s having sex with his daughter, his ex, or whoever.

When he moved in, he made me several promises:  He’d stay on his meds, no alcohol, and he’d smoke outside.  He’s broken every one of them.  He’s put holes in the walls of my house in three rooms, and has stained the carpets.  He broke the door frame to the kitchen-to-garage door.  He recently destroyed my front screen door, coming home so drunk he could barely walk, and fell right through it as he was trying to open it.  I had to follow after him wiping blood off my walls because he had fallen somewhere and was bleeding from the forehead where he had hit the ground.  He fell onto my end table, destroying a picture and frame sitting there.  I find shopping carts in my back yard, and things he digs out of trash cans in my garage.  I’ve had enough.

Well, it ends soon.  Today I gave him a 60 day notice, as required by California law.  If he’s still here at the end of that time, I’ll go to court and file eviction papers, and he’ll be thrown out, forcefully, if necessary.  Stay tuned.

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