You may recall that I’ve done the occasional blog recalling my Olive Street days. That was my “Claremont cockroach1” time from the fall after I graduated from Pitzer College in 1975 until I moved to Laredo, Texas two years later. I was thinking that I should once again indulge in a periodic recollection of those days. What follows is a combination of two blog entries that I did over at TypePad to provide a re-introduction to that life.
I had graduated from college and decided to stay in Claremont for the time being. I had been working for the college food service company and thought I was going to go into management with the company. I had given up my College Avenue room and made arrangements to share the Olive Street apartment with George when his roommate Andrew went off to UCLA in the fall.
But that was a couple of months away, and I needed a place to live in the meantime. One of our friends, Anne, the butch dyke, was staying in Claremont for the summer and had leased a unit in a triplex, literally just “on the other side of the tracks.” I agreed to spend the summer sharing the apartment with her.
When fall came Andrew moved to Westwood, but before I had a chance to move in, the lost soul willowy femme lesbian Ann returned from Los Angeles and asked George for a place to stay temporarily. Given the mellow, kind-hearted person he was, he agreed.
At the same time Anne was making me crazy (for a variety of reasons, probably material for another blog entry), and I wanted to get out of the triplex and into the Olive street apartment. While I knew both Anne and Ann were lesbians, I didn’t know Ann had a crush on Anne. So I asked Ann if she wouldn’t like to share the triplex unit with Anne. She was of course delighted.
And I was able to move to Olive Street, my home for the next twenty-one months.
During my Olive Street days I was working at B. Dalton bookseller and generally enjoying life, in spite of my tendencies to over-worry and make much of too little.
Later George also moved to Westwood, and I had a roommate for a short while named Jim about whom the less said the better.
For the 1976-77 academic year I had a roommate named Beth. She was a sophomore at Scripps College. We got along well as roommates for the most part, and I enjoyed her sharing the apartment with me. (Strictly platonic, in case you were wondering.)
In June of 1977, I had to give up my Claremont cockroach ways after getting a job as B. Dalton Bookseller store manager in Laredo, Texas.
But that’s a time I’ll always look back on fondly.