So it's officially my first night here in the commune. It's so big and feels a bit institutional, but it's slowly becoming more populated and less intimidating.
I made Ryan come over for band practice (after all, it's Tuesday - the traditional day of trash rock time). He hadn't seen my place yet and was pretty entertained by it. He was even prancing around the halls playing mariachi music on his guitar at one point. I gave him the grand tour and then we played through some songs in my room, leaving the door open a little bit in case anyone wanted to hear us.
Towards the end of practice, an old guy popped his head in the doorway. I was expecting him to tell us to shut up, but instead he enthusiastically told us to keep playing. He introduced himself and offered us some salmon bisque he had just made.
There were a few people in the kitchen, so I took my tea kettle in there and made some tea while working up the courage to sample the sketchy looking bisque. Met a couple of my neighbors and made some small talk. They were cool people: a college kid studying photography, a woman who really liked the color orange, and the old guy that cooked the bisque. Turns out the old guy used to be a professional chef in Canada. Photography Guy was eating the bisque and looked like he was enjoying it, so I decided to give it a taste.
"I know, it looks like bloody awful slop," said the old guy in a fake British accent. He was right - it was ugly and gray. It smelled good though, so I tried a little. It was really good as long as I didn't look at it. Ryan didn't want any. He was missing out.
We sat around drinking tea with our new friends for a little bit. Then Ryan took off and I went back to my room to put my keyboard away. I went back into the kitchen to wash a teacup. A tough-looking man with a tattoo was chopping up zucchini and singing Beatles songs in a deep voice. He introduced himself to me as Tony. I talked to him for a little bit and found out that he was just there visiting a girl that lives down the hall from me. Apparently he's from New York but bounces back and between here and Arizona. "Depends on what the weather does," he says, chopping another zucchini.
I left the kitchen and went back to my room to check my email and make a phone call. I went back to the kitchen a little later to recycle an empty juice bottle and discovered that Tony was putting the final touches on a beautiful plate of grilled tomatoes, zucchini, and pita bread.
"Wow, you're quite the gourmet chef," I say.
He laughs. "I'm hanging out with a girl! We're gonna watch a movie...have a few beers...I always like to make sure I make good food when I'm hanging out with a girl!"
I look at the professionally plated display of vegetables and pita, then at the grin on Tony's face. "It's healthy, too!" he adds enthusiastically.
I can't help but smile. "It looks great!" I say. "She's going to be impressed."
I think Tattooed Tony just restored my faith in men a little bit.
Anyway, that's all I've got for now. Stay tuned for more stories from the commune!
And with that, I say goodnight, amigos. :)