June 24, 2020
I have said before, most people haven’t had as many roommates as myself. My last column I went over the ones I had before marriage. I couldn’t even try to put them all in one sitting. So I ended my roommate countdown when I got married.
My marriage ended quickly and unexpectedly, by me, and the expensive apartment our two salaries supported wasn’t viable for me alone.
Jack, a 60-year-old widower who I had done work for, lived on Capitol Hill in a small mansion. He traveled a lot and the place had been broken into a few times since his wife’s death. He offered me a room in the place...