The Boyfriend

There are two types of travelers. The first is the kind who would never sleep on a stranger’s couch. Especially if they are all alone. It doesn’t matter if it is through an app and the stranger has good references. They just don’t feel comfortable. Then there is me. The adventurous and thrifty solo traveler who will do anything to save a buck. Sleep on the floor of a stranger man’s kitchen with the cockroaches in a remote village in the middle of Africa? Is it free? Sign me up.

Don’t get me wrong, I am cautious. But over time, I can admit that I have probably become too comfortable. I have been lucky and had so many fantastic experiences staying with strangers. And these experiences have caused me to completely let my guard down. I had forgotten that there is still danger in this world. That sometimes it is good to be more cautious like the other type of traveler. But don’t worry, I will be reminded of this. The hard way.

RENTING IN LA LA LAND

When I made up my mind to quit my job and travel, I took the next logical step and sold every single thing I owned. Which included all of my furniture and household goods. I didn’t want to have anything tying me down to any one place. And it felt great. It made me feel free. But I still didn’t feel ready to leave Los Angeles yet. So I decided to rent month to month until I felt the time was right to leave.

In case you have never lived in LA, rent is pretty dang expensive. [Me looking at places.] Oh look. A place in Santa Monica. Weird, it looks like a massage parlor. Oh, it IS a massage parlor. Rent one of our tables to sleep on as long as you are out before we open each morning. Honestly, that is pretty tempting for only $700 a month. Oh here is a place for only $900 a month in Hollywood! What does BYOT mean? Ohhhhh. Bring Your Own Tent. Duh. Pitch a tent in our front yard for a low monthly rate. Bathroom not included. Hmmm sounds okay but a little far from work.

Finally, I find a furnished room in someone’s house in Marina del Rey for around a thousand a month. I immediately book it, pay for three months, and head that way.  The owner, Jenn, seems really sweet. I am also introduced to her boyfriend, Steve, who lives there as well. She gives me the key and shows me my room. Her and Steve’s room is directly next to mine. They will be just a knock away if I need anything at all. Perfect. I tell her thanks and head to my car to move a few things in before I head to work.

WHY YOU WEARING DEM SHORTS

I get home from work late that evening. It has been an incredibly long day. But luckily I recently went on a date with a guy who was bragging about his weed and gave me some to try. As if on cue, I get a text from him. “You try any of that weed I gave you yet?” Not yet dude, I will here in a minute.

I drop off my stuff in my room and then head out front to smoke a joint. It is a little past midnight. The moon is full and bright. The air is still warm. A car pulls up to the house. Jenn walks past me and jumps in. She waves and says, “I will be back later. Have a good night!” I smile, say goodbye, and spark up the joint.

I take a seat out front on the curb while I smoke. When I look back towards the house, I notice Steve standing in the doorway, staring at me. His expression looks slightly angry. Weed is legal here so hopefully he isn’t mad about that. Then, under his breath, I hear him saying something about me wearing shorts. Hmmm. He is swaying as he stands there like he has had too much to drink. This is weird. Maybe if I disappear for a few minutes he will forget I am out here. I take a walk around the block. When I get back, I peak around the corner and see he is gone and the front door is closed. I drop what is left of the joint and tiptoe past his door to my room.

MOOOOORE WHAT

Back in my room, I lie on my bed, close my eyes, and enjoy my high. In the room next to me, I can hear that Steve is still awake. He is talking to himself and still sounds quite angry. He is mumbling words under his breath that I can’t quite make out through the wall. This goes on for about fifteen minutes and then there is silence. He must have fallen asleep. Maybe he was even sleep talking to himself in the first place. That would make sense. I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.

Suddenly, I am jolted awake as I hear a loud crash that sounds like a beer bottle being thrown and breaking against the wall. I sit up straight, as tense as can be. I quiet my breathing. I can hear his voice again, this time louder. He is roaming around the room. Bottles and cans are being kicked over as he stumbles into them. It sounds like furniture is even being pushed around.

It is like he is in a blacked out rage or something. Either that or pretty fucked up on some kind of drug. And of course, I am here alone in the house with him. His screaming starts to get louder and he starts yelling out, “MOOOOOORE!!!! MORE!!!!” over and over and over. Then he continues to say things in gibberish that don’t make sense. Please God, don’t let him remember I am here in the room next to him.

Right then, I hear footsteps walk up toward my door. The footsteps stop and there are a few moments of silence. I hear two loud knocks on my bedroom door as his fists pound against it. Shit. I stand up very quietly and stare at the door in silence. I watch the handle jiggle. He knocks again. Obviously there is no way I am opening that door after how he was looking at me from the front porch. He will have to break it down if he wants to come in here.

I look around for something, anything, to protect myself with. On my desk there is a brass elephant I got from Thailand. Probably the heaviest thing in this room. I tiptoe softer than I ever have in my entire life and grab it. Turn around and face the door. Ready to strike if he gets the door open. I stand up in the middle of my room and just stare at my door. Watching the handle continue to jiggle. Does he have a key to my room?

I grab my phone and text Jenn to tell her what is happening. I ask her when she will be home. I get a message right back saying that he is probably just locked out or something. She will be home a little later. Hmmm that’s not really what it seems like. I continue to stand in the middle of my room staring at the door. Phone in one hand, ready to call 911. Brass elephant in the other. I text the guy I am dating and tell him what is happening. Damn how much weed did you smoke? I told you it was strong. I barely smoked any. And it was only decent.

After about 2 hours, she is still not home but the knocking has finally stopped. I am guessing he fell asleep outside of my door. It is now about 3 am and I am also exhausted. I decide to try to get some sleep. I quietly slide underneath my bed, curl up into a ball, and eventually fell asleep. The next morning, I grab as much of my stuff as I can, open my door, and run to my car. As soon as I get to work, I contact the rental company to tell them what happened. I have already paid for 3 months but there is no way I am going back there.

IF THEY WON’T HELP YOU, TWEET ABOUT IT

The rental company is not much help at all. They say the only way I can get out of my lease is to talk to Jenn about what happened. If she agrees to let me leave at all, then it is up to her to decide if she wants to also refund the money. I am slightly scared to talk to her because I don’t want her to ask Steve about it and for him to get even more upset with me.

Why won’t this company help me? I feel like I am in danger. I used their app to book this place. I try to think about what would make a company want to help me. I decide to tweet about it. “Umm hello. I am in a scary situation. In case something happens to me, I just want people to know.” I @ the company. Seconds later I get a message from them. Of course. They agree to let me out of my lease at the end of the month. I guess that is better than nothing. Only two more weeks here. They say they will call Jenn and tell her whats up.

I also send Jenn a message and tell her I am slightly scared to come back. She apologizes and says that Steve was really drunk last night and that he says he is sorry. It won’t happen again. They even left me a box of chocolates and a gift certificate for a massage on my desk to make up for my troubles. She reassures me that it won’t happen again. Plus, they are going out of town today so I am free to come back and stay without worry. Okay. I will head that way after work, thank you.

SOMETIMES DATES ARE FOR DINNER AND SOMETIMES THEY ARE TO SAVE YOUR LIFE

The next week, I have a date with Brett, a pretty looking muscly bartender guy I met over the weekend. Not really the look I usually go for, but maybe that is a good thing. He picks me up and we go on our first date to a restaurant near by. While at dinner, I get a text from Jenn saying that they are coming back in town. Ugh, great. The rest of the date goes okay even though while Brett is talking about his love for working out, all I can think about is how I am scared to go home. When Brett drops me off, I see that Jenn’s car isn’t there yet. Great. They must not be home yet. I head to my room.

As I close my door, I immediately hear that Steve is home and talking nonsense again. This time in the hallway. You have got to be kidding me. He is roaming around aggressively, pounding on the walls. He sounds much, much angrier than last time. Jenn said she wasn’t going to leave me alone with him. She has to be here. But I definitely don’t hear her. Great, now I am alone with him and he knows I complained to the company about him.

Ugh not this again. PLEASE. Steve is pounding on all of the walls around my room as he walks up and down the hallway. Maybe he doesn’t know I am home yet. I hide in my wardrobe. I immediately call 911. Tell them what is going on. They say someone will be here shortly. Who knows how long that will be with LA traffic. Fuck it. I call Brett. Tell him I need help. Ask him if he can please come back to where he dropped me off and help me get the fuck out of here. He is confused but says he will be back here in a few minutes.

About five minutes later, I hear the front door open. I am guessing Brett is back. I then hear Steve run towards him yelling. What are you doing in here! He slurs. I am here to visit my friend. He says okay and lets him continue walking to my room. Well that was easy. Must have something to do with the fact that Brett is built like a Greek God. He walks me to his truck and says to wait while he grabs my stuff. I don’t see Steve anywhere but sit on guard just in case he comes out. I am shaking and decide to smoke a joint while I wait. I open the truck door and the alarm goes off. Fuck.

I immediately see Steve open the front door to see where the noise is coming from. He is yelling. Still angry. I don’t see Brett anywhere. Steve and I make eye contact and he starts quickly heading toward me in the truck. Oh Universe, please let me survive. Please. I am praying at this point for the police to come or for Brett to come out of the house. The Universe must have been listening because Steve randomly turns around and heads back into the house. Right then, Brett comes down the driveway with two suitcases full of all of my stuff.

Here you go, I think I got everything. He loads up my car and asks if I want him to wait with me for the police to come. I say no thanks. I wait 40 more minutes for the police to come. They never do. I call them and cancel. Drive off and never go back again.

THE UNIVERSE WILL ALWAYS GIVE YOU EXACTLY WHAT YOU NEED

I am still slightly traumatized by this event because it reminded me how small I actually am. For so long, I felt invincible. But this experience reminded me that not everyone is always kind and caring. And for that reason, how important it is to keep your guard up a little bit in order to stay safe. I think after traveling for so long, I became too trusting. I forgot that there are people out there who can actually hurt me. While it did shake me up, I think this happened at the perfect time and was just the reminder I needed right before I left to go on my 10 month solo journey. 

As for Brett, we never ended up talking again after he saved me that night. He must have thought the situation was kind of crazy given that he had no context or idea who this guy I was living with was. But it is amazing that out of all nights, that was the one we ended up going on a date. The night I needed him the most. Life is absolutely wonderful like that. People are often like angels the Universe sends to us at exactly the right time to help us along our path. And then they are gone. I am so thankful Brett was there to help me that night. If he hadn’t been, who knows what would have happened.

Moral of the story. If a big buff dude asks you to go out on a date with him and you don’t normally go for that type, do it anyways. He just might end up saving your life. Oh, and be careful when you stay with strangers.

Couchsurfing CHRONICLES

When you have been traveling for close to ten years, you are bound to have a few bad experiences. Couchsurfing Chronicles are written not to scare you or to make fun of anyone. Just odd stories that remind us not to get too comfortable when staying with strangers.

Staying with locals is something I support 100%, while traveling or even in your own city. Whether it is a rental, a homestay, or legit couchsurfing, it is the absolute best way to really get a feel for the culture, to meet new people, and maybe even save a few dollars.

* These stories are not all exclusively from couchsurfing.com, they are a collection of stories from people we stayed with via all apps and websites, and sometimes just meeting people randomly. Names have been changed to protect the identity of those mentioned.

More Couchsurfing Chronicles

It is the Feelings You Are Attached To, Not the Things

After traveling for seven months, I finally stopped back home for a few weeks in Los Angeles. While I was there, I went to visit my old office to see some of my coworkers. Immediately, when walking into the building, I felt butterflies and sort of a sense of loss in my stomach. It was the same feeling I had carried with me for the first few months of my trip abroad. The same kind of feeling you feel when you see your ex for the first time since you broke up and you still aren’t over them. Or when you move to a new city and feel homesick because you miss your family and friends.

If you don’t know me, before I left, that office was my home. Really. You don’t understand, I pretty much actually lived there. I pulled many all nighters there, took showers there, got ready for first dates there (well more like fifty first dates), ate most of my meals there, laughed there, cried there, and developed some of my deepest friendships there. It wasn’t just a job for me. It was my life.

focusing on the rearview

When I decided to leave, it was the hardest decision I had ever had to make. But I felt that it was time. I knew there were bigger and better things waiting for me on the other side. But still, for months after I left, even while halfway across the globe, there were times when I would sit there and wonder if I made the right decision. I longed to feel the same feelings I felt while working there. The excitement and the intensity. And walking back into that office building seven months later, these are the feelings that came rushing back and filled my soul.

In the beginning, I had contemplated ending my trip early and going back to work there because I missed it so much. I even talked to recruiters a few times while I was on the road. It was not until coming back that I realized for the first time that it wasn’t the actual job I missed. Or the building. It was everything that happened while I was inside of that building. The challenges I had faced. Both personally and professionally. The struggles I went through and how I overcame them. The friendships I made. All of the feelings I associated with the job and the building. That is what I was really attached to.

It is similar to how I feel about Los Angeles in general. The memories of weekends spent sitting on the floor at a friend’s house, everyone playing instruments and jamming out together. The late nights spent sitting on the beach by the lifeguard stand, smoking a joint, and having deep conversations about life with my best friend. The kind of moments where you stop, look around, and think, ‘Man. Life is good.’ The moments where your heart feels happy.

IT IS OUR ATTACHMENT THAT KEEPS US STUCK

We often become attached to certain people, places, or things because we associate them with the feelings we felt while we were with them. The comfort or confidence or joy we felt in their presence. We can’t let go because we want to feel that way again.

This happens in many relationships. One or both of you agree that it is time to move on, so you do. But you just can’t seem to let go. Even if the relationship was shitty and you know it isn’t good for you, you hang on. You miss the intensity of it and all of the feelings you felt while in it. The comfort. The growth you experienced while being with that person. But then you go back and it isn’t the same. You thought you missed the person, and of course maybe you did, but what you missed more was how you felt during that time in your life when you were with them.

For me, I know deep down that if I went back to my old job, it wouldn’t be the same. There are only a few people I know left on the team and the job has completely changed. But it was still hard for me to let go of because of how much it shaped who I am today. While I sat there at my old desk and relished in the memories, I realized that they are still mine. I will always have them with me no matter where I go.

The feelings are what our heart really longs for. And these feelings are created by moments. Now. In the present. It isn’t the place. Or the person. But the moments. Once we realize that we can and will continue to have more of them, and that we can have them anywhere, with anyone. It will set us free.

WHAT WE ARE ATTACHED TO CAN SHOW US THE WAY

That random stranger you meet and end up having a three hour conversation with that leaves you feeling refreshed. The time when you almost get kicked out of a van in the middle of nowhere in Thailand because you lost your sticker but someone fights for you to stay. Or when you start a new job and finally understand what you are doing. These are the moments we crave. The feelings we want to feel. It is not the guitar or office building, or particular person that brings them. It is the moments. 

There are places I stay for only a few days but am genuinely sad to leave. But it is never about the place. It is about what I experienced in that place. The connections I have made. It is the same reason why I no longer believe someone when they say not to visit a certain country or city. Because whether you recommend a place doesn’t so much have to do with the actual place, but more the experiences you had there. And believe me, I can be in the worst circumstances while traveling but if I am surrounded by cool people, I will always associate that country with the people and what we went through together. 

Our brain tends to play our past over and over inside of our heads, much like watching a home movie of our happy or sad times. But like watching any other movie, just because we see it, it doesn’t mean we are actually experiencing it. It only adds to our attachment. Instead of watching replays, it is useful to recognize where you are stuck or what you can’t seem to let go of. Recognize what feelings you are craving from your past and open yourself up to feeling them in the future.

FEED YOUR SOUL WITH THE FEELINGS YOU CRAVE

It took me months to feel completely excited about my decision to leave Los Angeles. And even then, it wasn’t until coming back that I was able to truly gain a fresh perspective. I didn’t want to let go of this office. Of this place. Of those memories. But I now realize it wasn’t the place I was attached to. And what helped me to realize this is that I can now look back and see that I started to feel the same feelings when traveling. I am now opening myself up to a world where it is possible to feel these feelings anywhere I am. I am no longer attached to a place. Or specific people or objects. I am attached to the entire experience.

Instead of wanting to relive the past, I am now thankful for it.  And use it to create an even better future. Because missing my life in Los Angeles and longing to feel the feelings I felt while I was there have fueled my passion to experience life in a deeper way. To continue to fill my life with experiences that change me. And to inspire others to do the same. When I left, I was sad because I didn’t want it to end. Now I realize it was only the beginning. Instead of one office building, I now have the whole entire world as my home. 

As cliche as it sounds, home really is where the heart is. If you can separate your feelings from the person, place, or thing you are attaching them to, you are able to take them with you, anywhere you go. Once you learn to keep the memory of your experiences close to your heart and realize they will never leave you, you will always be home. No matter where you are.