While Working for HBO, I Got Kicked Out of My Apartment and Fell in Love with a Bunch of Greek Waitresses

By James Altucher

One time I tried to move into a homeless shelter in Pittsburgh.

I had this image that it would be like some sort of sex dormitory. I would meet all of these homeless ex-prostitutes or lonely single mothers and we would sneak into each other’s rooms and fall in love.

We would whisper really quietly to each other at night and it would be exciting and fresh and new.

I asked the manager of the homeless shelter if I could live there. I said I wanted to do research for a book. I also said it was only one block from where I worked so I wanted an easy commute.

He called my boss for a reference but my boss said I was most likely crazy. So the guy running the homeless shelter said I couldn’t live there.

Years later when I moved to New York City it was almost as if I were living in a homeless shelter.

I shared a single room with Elias, who made his living playing chess in Washington Square Park. He slept on the couch and I slept on a mattress on the floor.

The shower was broken and ran water all day and night. If I was sleeping and Elias brought a girl home they would go into the bathroom. My wall was also the bathroom wall. Cockroaches were all over the kitchen.

In the morning I would pull a suit out of my garbage bag which contained all my clothes and belongings and I would put it on and walk to HBO.

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