-^-for posterity-^-

i spent another night with mr. khoa. he’s the guy that always seems to take me to shady places. i seem to keep trusting him though.

tonight, after having our normal cup of coffee, he decided to take me to his house. he kept saying, “we listen to pantera.” i really don’t know who pantera is but they sounded familiar. he kept saying, “american rock.” so we went.

he lives on the third floor of a large apartment building. we walked through narrow hallways. people were sitting everywhere staring and the walls were milky and marble. there was a small gate. we walked through it and down a thin hallway. his room was on the left. it was locked with a small padlock. the lock was a padlock and about half as big as normal. it was thin and narrow.

you could possibly fit two coffins side by side in his room. i don’t even think you could get them through the door. the walls were made of something much thinner than plywood. the door was light. the roof was so low that i couldn’t stand up. the room was no wider than five feet and no longer than six.

there was a straw mat that we sat on. that was his bed. he wanted me to listen to pantera so he searched through his cds. he had a tv, a vcd player, large speakers and an electric guitar. for a tiny hovel, this room had everything. we sat back and listened to rock music. i didn’t know any of the groups but pretended. oh, american rock!

mr. khoa was in his element. he flipped through cds and always found what he was looking for. his smile was genuine and his love for music was obvious. even though his room as small as a king sized bed he still loved me being there.

so, the man with a nice motorcycle, an electric guitar, a tv, a vcd player, a new mobile phone and a set of nice speakers lives in a shoebox. maybe he’s content with his cramped living quarters. i know it would drive me up the wall; even with those nice speakers.