Slum for Breakfast

So much has gone down in the last five months I don’t even know where to begin. Maybe it was the “finger breaking incident” that drove me away from writing about Slum. While it seemed therapeutic for a while, eventually it just seemed to be perpetuating anger and creating a really nasty, bordering on violent, situation.

Before I fill you in on what became of me and Slum – (and it is a shocker!) I should first say that she’s gone. No, I didn’t bury her in the backyard. She left about week ago for India to continue her dream of making the world’s most brilliant, life altering film. Prior to her departure, however, her relationship with Mariana fell apart, and that is putting it oh so mildly. It all began while I was exploring the jungles of Peru. Mariana became “collared” by a guy she met at an S&M club in Hollywood. In S&M terms, that means he owns her ass.

I was still bleary eyed and jet lagged from my overnight flight from Lima when I was sitting down in the living room having a chat with Tyler, getting filled in on all the madness in the house during the three weeks I’d been gone.

“So, Mariana has this new boyfriend, and they’re into S&M, and it’s just been non-stop…” Tyler said, exasperated, having had to listen to them screw for two weeks straight.

As I sat and listened I heard the door to my room open and close…

“That’s weird,” I said to Tyler. Maybe Mariana doesn’t know that I’m home.”

I started up the stairs, and as I turned the knob to go inside, a stunned Slum started profusely apologizing and pleading her case.

“Oh, Hi… I’m so sorry. I had to use the bathroom and Mariana and her boyfriend have had our bathroom tied up for the last hour and a half… I never would have gone into your space unless it was an emergency... In fact, Mariana kept trying to get me to come in here and hang out while you were away and I said it woudn't be right... ”

“No worries,” I said to her, not sure what to do next since it was the first time we’d exchanged words in months.

“You have no idea what it’s been like here. Her boyfriend is here all the time and now she wants me to sublet my room to him when I go to Barcelona next month… Let’s go downstairs,” she said as she motioned me away from earshot of Mariana’s bedroom door.

Tyler was still sitting in the front room. I listened to the two of them complain about what a nightmare the house had become in my absence. Apparently they were both awaiting my return to handle it.

“I just said the other day that we’d wait for you to come home because, as I told Rubi, ‘Marissa will come flying out of her room and nip this in the bud the first time Mariana disturbs her peace!’”

It’s good to be feared, and while I knew they were right, I was way too tired and my head was still spinning from my time in the jungle to even consider trying to sort out any house politics. Never mind the fact that Slum was suddenly treating me like I existed and conversing with me as if we were two civilized human beings. Something magical must have happened while I was away. Could it get any stranger?

“You must be hungry! I’ll make omelettes for us!” Slum said.

She cooked up one yummy batch of mushroom and cilantro omelettes, accompanied by a side of toasted sesame bagels. The three of us sat and ate midday breakfast together while looking a slideshow of my trip on my laptop. Clearly, I had fallen into some sort of strange parallel universe where Slum no longer shunned and ignored me.