Lou was leaning against the door to keep it open while checking something on his phone, seemingly without intention to help out with the lugguge the taxi driver had set on the curbside.

“You are not going to help me with my lugguage?” I challenged him.

“Oh, yeah, of course.”  He took the big one, through a heavy metal door, upstairs, through another heavy metal door.

We walked into the space. I saw the space, and said, “Wow!”

The loft looked a lot nicer than the pictures. Ceiling at least five meters, if not more, open beams, ceiling light, Norwegian white paint. The central space are separated only by functional furniture, kitchen area a tall large wood counter, the dining area a glass dinning table and tall flower vase, and the living room a few sofas, the big and pushing kind, randomly set aside in one far corner. The music had great acoustic effect in the space, and I was right away turned into my down-to-earth mode.

First it was Alex, a tall shy guy in white T-shirt, with cold hands, who let me know of his cat “dirty”, saying she may snare at strangers.  Dirty is a big black cat with enormously puffed hair. I voiced my opposition to the name. (”Naming a cat dirty, is like naming a guy ugly.” I got some good humored laughter.)

Then Andrea and Maggie came in. Shook hands. They looked tired, and slammed themselves on the sofa, read New Yorkers,  then later both fell asleep.

Then Danny. Big guy. He sat on the living room table and started on his sandwich.

Then Maegan came in.  The four of us chatted a bit. Maegan was eager to start the work, so we came into our room

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Dinner in M and C’s place. Chris made sour crow, sausage, corn. So good, I embarrassed myself with a fourth serving.