So... Stowe.

Except for my little item about the garbage collectors, when last you heard from me, I was in Burlington, griping about the futility of my job search in a new city.

Well... as I write this, I am at my friend Shawn and Chantal's bed and breakfast in Stowe, Vermont, about 40 miles southeast (mostly east) of Burlington. Shawn is at work till 11:30 this morning; Chantal is at a meeting till 12:30; their two boys just told me about 15 minutes ago that they were going out to play in the back yard... yet as I look out the back window of the inn, the yard is Astoundingly Devoid Of Boys.

Uh-oh.

So... how did I get HERE?

From the beginning...

When I moved to Burlington, I moved into a sublet on Elmwood Avenue, in a section of the city called the Old North End. Tina, the woman whose name was on the lease, found a new place starting on September 1, but her old lease didn't end until October 1, so she wanted a subletter for her room in this two-bedroom apartment so it wouldn't be a total loss. We emailed, then talked, and sight unseen I decided to move in: I paid her $250 for three weeks and slept on an air mattress, the whole time with the understanding that I would have to move out once October first came.

Unfortunately, I couldn't seem to find the next place... at least not a next place in the city. I came up to Vermont on Amtrak, sans car, and while there were plenty of places in the "suburbs" of Burlington and beyond, I'd seen during my job hunt that living outside of the city really limits your work options. Plus, I liked being within walking distance of the downtown: I'd started attending Quaker Meeting every week and the meeting house was within walking distance; all of the bookstores and cafes and record stores and grocery stores were within a short walk. I really didn't want to leave the gravity of downtown and have to rely of the bus (which only runs until about 9 pm; most of the routes have no Sunday service).

However, I'd been in touch with Pat, a woman with a room for rent in South Burlington, on and off for about five weeks... before I firmed things up with Tina, I'd actually considered just moving into her place. As I explored Burlington, I found myself glad that I hadn't taken her place, because of all the reasons enumerated above. I really really really didn't want to live out in South Burlington.

But as the first of October ticked closer, and I hit wall after wall finding a place in the city, I got a little more desperate, and I made sure I stayed in touch with Pat as a backup plan, just in case I didn't find anything else. We played phone- and email-tag... and when it became clear that I wasn't going to find a place in the city, I called her, and asked her if she still had a room for rent (she did), and could I come out and see it (not only could I come see it, but she offered to drive into the city, pick me up, drive me out so I could see the place, and then drive me back "home."

So I rode out with her to see the place, near the Burlington airport... saw the house, met her family, looked at the room. I have to admit: I wasn't thrilled. Not only was the room kind of crummy (an unfinished room in an unfinished basement), but I had an inexplicable bad feeling about it.

Something here isn't right, but I don't know what.

I consoled myself (talked myself out of my bad feeling) by telling myself that Pat's daughter had an 18-month-old daughter (her grown son, daughter and granddaughter lived there) and that the granddaughter was now in daycare, which was $160 a week. So the $100 I'd be paying for my room would help them out.

So... I told Pat that I'd take the room; we shook hands, agreed that I'd pay her $200 to move in (two weeks' rent), and that I'd be out there sometime around 5:30 pm Monday to move in. She said fine, good. I didn't give her any money.

Good thing, too.

On Monday I was sitting at the Burlington library, working on my writing... and at 1:30 I felt my cell phone vibrating in my pocket... I couldn't answer, since I was inside the library... so I went outside and checked my messages.

This is the message she left:

"Hi, Max... this is Pat. We spoke yesterday. I had a long discussion with my son last night after you looked at the place. He is very hesitant to have someone moving in here and renting. I'm sorry about the short notice, but he's really hesitant to have someone move in, so I'm afraid I can't rent the room out. Please call me to let me know you've gotten this message. Bye."

Four hours before I was ready to move in.

I was sorry about the short notice too... seeing as I'd packed up everything I had at the sublet, and it was all sitting in Tina's car, waiting for me to meet her at 5 so I could make the move.

So... I called Pat back. I said "I got your message" and then "Are you serious?"

She said yes, she was, and "sorry about the inconvenience, but my son really doesn't want to do it, and I have to live with him, so..."

Sorry for the "inconvenience." She's telling me I don't have a place to stay, and that's an "inconvenience."

I said "Well, you realize that I'm all packed and ready to move in. I'm moved OUT of the old place. My friend's car is packed. Your room was where I was going to move next. I don't have anyplace else to go."

"Well, I'm sorry, but... I've gotta live with my son, so..."

So... I was evicted before I even moved in. I guess you could say I was homeless.

Fortunately... I'd been going to Quaker Meeting pretty regularly since I'd come up to Burlington, and had put a call out to the meeting that I was looking for a "next place to live" and could anyone help out? Zed, a person from the meeting, told me that if I didn't find a place, I could sleep on his couch for a couple nights... which is what I ended up doing for two nights. Meanwhile, I emailed my friend Shawn, he of Goddard's MFA program, Name The Boy, and Auberge de Stowe, and told him what had happened. Right before I got the HEAVE HO phone call, he had emailed me about a place in South Burlington (aptly named The Pour House), near Pat's house, where I could go get a beer and cheap food and watch the Phillies in the playoffs.

I told him what happened... and he wrote back...

Well, forget about the Pour House then. You're on your own for the ballgame.

But seriously, Max, you're scaring me. Just tell me when and I'll come get you and you can sleep on the futon downstairs and get a job here for a while.

Which I felt hesitant to do, for a lot of reasons: mainly, that Shawn and Chantal have a family and run an inn, and it's BUSY SEASON RIGHT NOW (tourists, fall foliage). The last thing I wanted to do is go down there and be underfoot.

So... I was just kind of praying that I find some sort of answer.. and then I went out walking for breakfast and it hit me...

What kind of job would I get in Stowe? Inn work? Working a front desk, cleaning rooms, cooking, etc....

And... what kind of help could Shawn and Chantal possibly need during their busy season, and which I might actually be able to swap to them in exchange for a place to stay? Working a front desk, cleaning rooms, cooking etc

Hmmmmm....

So... I wrote Shawn back and told him I'd be hesitant to take him up on his offer if I was just staying there underfoot... BUT... I knew that it was their busy season... so in exchange for a place to stay, I'd give him part-time help at the inn: cleaning rooms, handyman help, front desk, answering the phone, running for groceries, etc.

He wrote back and said Yes, that'd be great.

So that's what I'm doing and where I am. I'm at Shawn and Chantal's in Stowe, helping them with the inn (the boys are back, by the way... making griled cheez sammiches... phew) and sleeping on the futon in the basement.

As an aside related to my job hunting post of a couple weeks ago: I spent three weeks in Burlington, applying and interviewing for jobs, and I'd barely made a dent... I had leads and interviews but no firm prospects... yet one afternoon in Stowe and Chantal made two phone calls, and the next evening, I had a job: bussing tables at a restaurant down in the village. It's a different kind of work than I'm used to: instead of sitting in front of a computer, surfing the net and basically being ON CALL, I'm actually BUSY. It pays $6.50 an hour plus tips, which doesn't sound like it'd be a lot, but if you saw this place's menu, you'd understand how I was able to take home $130 in cash for about six hours of work last Saturday night

Couchsurfing is a nice romanticized fun-sounding Vermont name for what I did, but homeless is homeless.

And yet, the whole time it was happening, I didn't feel any panic or fear. I thought "OK, this is what needs to be done... this is who I need to call... this is what I have to do next." And I did it... and now here I am in Stowe. I don't know if I'm going to stay here longterm, but for now, it works.

Burlington may yet be in my future, but if I try it again, I'm going to make sure I have a signed lease in hand before I make the move.

Mainly, though, when I have a bad feeling about something, I'm not going to talk myself into going the other way, which is basically what I did with the room in South Burlington.