#59 - Uncle Pete

I'm not sure if Uncle Pete remembers me, but I remember him.  He was not really my uncle, but the uncle of a classmate of mine from PT school.  Whenever we were making bids for certain rotations for our therapy affiliations, Methodist Hospital in Houston was a big one.  You may remember one story from a previous blog post...  Anyway, I really really wanted to go to Houston, but the Methodist rotation did not include accomodations.  This was a big deal because you had to find your own place to stay for 8 weeks.  Anyway, a classmate of mine was from Lafitte, and she tells me that her dad's brother lives in Lafitte but works in the oilfield and has to do a lot of work in Houston.   She told me that he had an apartment in Houston that he only used a few days out the the week, and not every week.  She talked to him, and he agreed to let me stay at his apartment for the eight weeks that I was to be in Houston.

In retrospect, I have no idea what my parents were thinking...  This was a fifty-something man, unmarried, who was offering a 20 year old young girl to stay at his apartment in Houston, unchaperoned, for eight weeks.  Really ?!?!?!  Anyway, he said it would be ok.  My parents said it would be ok.  So I figured it would be ok.  And it was.  Other than a few interesting moments.  Like the time...

I moved in on a weekend.  My mom drove up with one of her friends and I drove my car.  She helped me unload, and then went off for a weekend of shopping before returning home.  Uncle Pete was not in residence when I arrived, but my classmate had given me a key.  I remember that that apartment was on Westheimer by the Galleria, which is not the most family friendly neighborhood...but I felt secure because the apartment complex had a gate, and the apartment had several locks on each door (including a security bar on the sliding glass door).  I settled in, and went to bed.  I remember hearing something shuffling downstairs around 1 or 2 in the morning my first night there.  Obviously, I slept as soundly then as I do now, because I remember thinking, "Oh, I hope that is Uncle Pete." turning over, and going back to sleep.  Sure enough, when I woke up the next morning, I showered (noted the wet towel hanging over the towel rack), got dressed, and went downstairs to get some breakfast.  This older man with curly gray hair, in sweats with no shirt and a towel around his neck, was feeding carrots into a juicer.  "Hey!" he says.  "I'm Pete.  You must be Susan's friend."  (side note - I don't think he ever knew my name).  "Want some carrot juice?"  I politely declined, but stayed to listen to all the benefits of making your own juice every morning...

After that the pattern was set.  He would head home on Thursdays, and I would have the apartment to myself for the weekends.  Usually around Tuesday or Wednesday, he would show up, and make more juice.  The evenings were really interesting as we sat in the living room, made small talk and watched TV.  At the time, I was really into step aerobics and I remember that I brought my own step bench and VCR tape to Houston with me.  One day I was working out in the living room, when Uncle Pete appeared...  I think it is safe to say I surprised him, and he sat down on the couch to watch me finish my workout (which needless to say was in about 5 minutes) Yeah...  Can anyone say 8 weeks of awkward??? 

But...all's well that ends well.  Just a very nice man who was probably very glad to get his apartment back at the end of my stint in Houston.  I never saw him again, but from time to time remember and have to laugh.  What a weird time that was and again...mom and dad, what were you thinking???