As a recent graduate from college I moved to Las Vegas for the excitement and the life. I ended up getting a job at a two cent pizza parlor and had to take a room with a guy who was in a band and had a part time job at a warehouse. The only redeeming feature was that we were both college graduates, but not much else.

His gigs made him work late and my job made me work late, the garage apartment was a total mess. But my upbringing just couldn't put up with it, so on my time off I cleaned, yes I was a 24 year old clean freak. I washed and cleaned and folded and made the beds and grocery shopped and cooked. Woman stuff and all I though about was my grandmother who would always say that a woman's work is never done.

One day, on my day off, I did some deep cleaning, I changed the beds, swept under the beds, did the laundry, and as I was folding his clothes I started to throw out his boxers which were embarrassing, and then his undershirts that were stained and yellow, and his sox which didn't have a mate. I went through his closet and threw out two thirds of his shirts, they were either too small or too old. I washed the tub and the toilet, and took the curtain down and threw it away. I swept and vacuumed and I went to Target and bought a new curtain for the bathroom, and boxers and undershirts and sox and shirts and shorts and pants for him. I bought a home haircut kit, some pots and pans, and I bought some fresh underwear for me and spent every penny of my check.

I prepared dinner and set the table. When he came home I told him to get in the shower and clean up and shave and wash his hair. I went into the bathroom and took the scrub brush from the kitchen sink and cleaned his fingernails and sat him down on the toilet and cut his hair with a pair of scissors. I gave him his new underwear and his new shirt and shorts and told him that from now on he was going to dress properly and after dinner I was going to finish cutting his hair.

I heated dinner and served him and sat down with him after cleaning up and told him how things were going to be from now on. I quit my shitty job. I stayed home and took care of the house. He worked and gave me his paycheck. He needed to get either a better full time job, or another part time job because we couldn't live on what he earned. And I wanted a new washer and dryer, the piece of shit that was there had to go. I expected him to dress clean and pick up, I wasn't his maid. I expected him home for dinner, every night. Starting NOW.

And I wanted out of that dump, I didn't care if we moved back home, or back to his home, but I wanted out of that dump and to live in a normal house. I expected to be able to bring a baby home to a descent house. As far as he was concerned he was now married. I had bought some new underwear and I expected him to treat me right, like a man treats a wife.

And then I shut up and put my hand out and waited for his paycheck.