STRANGER THAN FICTION: 'THREE'S COMPANY' ACCOMMODATIONS SURVIVE THE FIRST WEEK

Week one of my Tallahassee, Fla., stay is over. I've survived sharing a bedroom with a New York City native and stared into the gaping maw of state politics.

And I'm scared. Real scared.

I'm here to report on the final weeks of the Florida Legislature's 2000 session. Two lucky co-workers, a man and a woman, landed the same assignment. We're sharing a two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment our employer rents for just such occasions.

It's pretty much like "Three's Company," only "Jack" can't cook at all and has no interest in sneaking females into his room, "Janet" is a chain smoker and I weigh 150 pounds more than Crissy. Plus, there are none of those crazy hi-jinks involving Mr. Roper.

The apartment is furnished in Early College Student. It looks like they gave someone $25 and a full Saturday morning to hit every garage sale in town. There's a helpful map of the city on the living room wall, right next to the handwritten note threatening the life of the next person to lose the apartment complex parking decals.

Each bedroom has two single beds. Have you ever seen a 6-foot-3-inch, plus-sized woman try to get into a single bed? It's hilarious, unless you're the woman.

Janet, the NYC native, and I are slowing edging each other toward insanity. Apparently, I snore very loudly. This is a sad fact that The Other Half thoughtfully kept to himself, and I love him more for it.

Janet, on the other hand, let me know by stomping out to the living room on the first night, then blasting the television during the 6 a.m. news as she had her first cigarette of the day.

On the same morning, Jack broke the coffee pot. It was a bad, bad way to start a Monday.

About the only thing worse is politics. Among the issues we're following:

* A tax break for golf courses, but only if members play no more than 75 percent of the rounds. Am I wrong, or wouldn't that take in a lot of private country clubs?

* A bill that would make it illegal to tattoo anyone under 16.

Apparently, there has been a rash of youth tattooings in The Sunshine State.

* A bill that would regulate the hours bingo could be played and the number of sessions that could be offered in a week. With the number of bingo enthusiasts in South Florida, it could get ugly.

Then there's the cast of characters in the Legislature. One representative sang "Happy Birthday" to the speaker of the House in the middle of a session last week. Another referred to one of our state education officials as "a pimp and a prostitute." Pretty versatile guy, huh? I've found out that more important decisions are made in the Capitol snack bar than on the House and Senate floors.

But my most exciting moment was when I was nearly run over by Gov. Jeb Bush, son of President George, brother of "Dubya." I was standing in front of an office at the Capitol, my massive briefcase propped up against my leg, holding a list of representatives and trying to figure out where the heck I was going.

Too late, I heard a stampede of people behind me, one of them saying, "And then you'll have your picture taken with him, and then EXCUSE US!" And there was Jeb, his press secretary and the rest of the entourage. I jumped three feet out of the way.

It was my brush with fame. Yep, I'm rubbing elbows with the big boys.

It's enough to make me want to run for office.

But then those ugly stories would surface about that scandal in Tallahassee -- the one where I was sharing a seedy apartment with a woman AND a man.

Heidi Nieland is a former Southeast Missourian staff writer living in Fort Lauderdale, Fla. Contact her at newsduo@herald.infi.net.