How I Live In Dickinson, North Dakota

The purpose of this blog is for me to tell people from out-of-state what it is like living in Dickinson, North Dakota.  Also, if people who live in Dickinson, North Dakota, should happen to read this blog, I want them to see what I see, and know what I have experienced.

I want to be able to tell the truth, so I don’t publish my name, and I try to be vague about the details of my life, so that no one can figure out it is me, and make me stop.

In particular, I did not want the owner of the house where I live, to find out that I write this blog.  I have lived in this house for two years now, and the owner of this house and me, we have had a lot of arguments.  The owner of the house where I live is in his fifties, he is from Dickinson, and he graduated from Dickinson State University.  If he became aware that I was writing so many negative things about Dickinson, he would probably say, “You need to get that shit off of there right now!”

I didn’t start out planning to write so many negative things about Dickinson, I just try to write truthfully, and I don’t want to censor myself on this blog. I have to mostly keep my mouth shut when I am out in Dickinson in order to not have problems.

There are some good points and some bad points about the person who owns the house where I live.  I have gotten a lot of information from him about the history of Dickinson, and things that have gone on in Dickinson.  The rent is not too high.  I have been allowed to keep construction equipment on the property without complaint.

I want to tell about some of the bad things, so that people can know what it is like when you have to live with somebody else due to the very high cost of housing in Dickinson.

Though the owner of the house has lived in Dickinson his whole life, he does not have any friends.  This is not uncommon in Dickinson, because the local people are not friendly to each other.  He has never been married, and he has not had a girlfriend for a long time.  This is also not uncommon in Dickinson, because there is a shortage of women.  Not having any friends or a girlfriend, has led to some quirky behavior, annoying behavior, gross behavior, which I am exposed to and have to deal with.

If you have ever seen the television show from the 1970s, “Sanford & Son”,  about an African-American junk dealer in Los Angeles living with his son Lamont, the inside of the house where I live is exactly the same, and I am kind of like Lamont.  The house has junk throughout the house, there has never been a girlfriend or a concerned friend that has helped the owner to see and understand that this had gotten out of hand.  I have had a couple of my friends come by the house, who I knew could take it, and they thought it was kind of funny.  But I know that I can never invite a woman over here, because they would freak out in a number of ways.  They would be scared of the carpet, the furniture, the bathroom, they would probably not want to have anything to do with me either after seeing where I live.

There would be several additional problems with me inviting a woman over to the house where I live.  The owner of the house is always here, he does not have anything to do or anywhere to go, which is a common problem for everybody in Dickinson.  He has not had a girlfriend for a long time, and there is a scarcity of women in Dickinson, so if I brought an attractive woman home, he would be unable to take his attention off her.  As it is, he stays in the living room all the time, even if he should fall asleep at 6 pm, 8 pm, 10 pm, midnight, he just stays in his Lazy Boy chair in the living room, as if he is guarding the living room, as if he is scared that he is going to miss out on something by going to his own bedroom.

When the owner of the house is in the living room, whether I am in the living room, or my bedroom, he talks to himself.  He sometimes mutters,” I did the best I could…bla, bla, bla”, or cries out, “I’m sorry!…bla, bla, bla”  Sometimes when I am in my bedroom, he goes on a long angry rant talking to himself out in the living room, when I am trying to fall asleep, and I feel like yelling, “Shut the fuck up, you fat fuck, shut up!”  I can only imagine what a fiasco it would be me having some woman in my bed, trying to have sex with her, and she would say, “Stop, stop, what the fuck is that?  Is that your room-mate out in the living room talking to himself?  This is too creepy, I’m getting out of here!”  Yup, can’t bring any women over to my house.

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