The One Thing a Homeless Vagabond Can't Take

As long as I live and have a sound mind, there’s one thing Jerry Moody can’t take: my memories. Despite stealing my grandparents wedding ring and jewelry, nothing can remove my fond memories of them. Not even a vagrant or thief.

I run a small rental business. When I first met Moody at the mall of millennia for a tenant interview, I knew him to be Julian Russell. But the fake ID he furnished turned out to be just as bogus as his story about vertigo preventing him from driving (he has a DUI). On top of being an apparent identity thief, Russell has a four page record with the orange county clerk of court.

Problems with Moody began just two months into his stay. Each morning, Moody, a serial leech on veterans benefits he “earned” but doesn’t deserve, cracked open a beer at roughly 6:30 AM. He would drink until about 12:30 PM. Then passed out until four. He repeated the cycle over and over and over again. Day after day, moody droned on with women on the phone at all hours, many of whom turned out to be prostitutes. 

His drunken rages awoke the entire house. He groped my girlfriend on the waste and even threatened to assassinate my mother with a thug named Bam. After stealing my grandparents jewelry and, admitting that he took roughly 35 cigars from corona cigar company in a drunken stupor, he finally came to blows.

I asked him to leave my home and intended to file an evection and restraining order. In the end, he beat me to it, literally. Upon asking him to vacate the property, with a full refund of course he still managed to slug me in the face four times, kick me to the floor and bash my head against the wall.

When he was released from jail, he even had the audacity to come back and break into my home to remove his things without permission.

There’s a lot of things Jerry Moody may take, but one of them he never seems to grasp is the word integrity.