August 21st, 2002


The Ball Peen Hammer Girl

Number two in my procession of horrid houseguests:

The Ball-Peen Hammer Girl. When I lived at the House of Failure (415-552-FAIL) it was at the heyday of Epicenter and the start of early '90s queer punk scene. Two of my housemates were main organizers of Queers Together in Punkness (Q-TIP) and bands and queer punk kids often stayed at our house while they played shows or visited SF. I’m not sure how BPH Girl found us but she showed up more or less unannounced to crash for a couple of days dropping names of people we knew.

The first thing she did was buy a HUGE coat and a ball-pen hammer on the street. She was very small, probably not 5 ft., and went everywhere with this combo, the hammer tucked in her sleeve for instant use. That didn’t bother me, but the fact she had the hammer did when she started acting crazy and paranoid soon after arriving. Actually the first bad note was sounded when we started asking her about NY and she revealed she had inherited a rent-controlled apartment that she was renting out to her roommates for three times what she actually paid in rent. She refused to accept that this could be seen as landlord-like behavior, and was mystified that we were questioning her.

Lots of little weird things happened but none interesting enough to relate until the day we were hanging out talking in the living room and one of us realized that her sleeping bag was moving. Another housemate picked it up and there she was, in coat and with hammer.

"I didn’t want to be in YOUR way so I thought I’d just sit here where I wouldn’t bother anyone."

Uh, time to go.