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Goodbye Middletown! (anecdote)

Friends at Luce,

In 2013, your building showed me hospitality before most of us met when Gordon let me use the facilities since my heat, water, and power stopped working that winter. Eventually, he sub-letted the apartment, and now several of us are on a first name basis.

It began with Ed and Michelle at the corner of the bar, and their explanation of some 70’s movie I never heard of about a beach. Cynthia got me a Dogfishhead and burger (BTW Cynthia: an Irish lad told me I should sign up for X-factor… Glad you told me about it!)

Over the next couple of weeks, things were good: I installed my sound system in the parking lot, met a girl on OkCupid, and captained the Pratt volleyball club team: Kick Sass. Soon I got a terrible sprained ankle… The night it happened remains vivid in my memory…

Crystal had just given me crushed ice. Consuelo carried the ice and my backpack as I tried to make it to my apartment. He walked in pace behind as I crutched toward the third floor corridor from the elevator. I hobbled awkwardly attempting to reach my pocket with my keys in it. He helpfully retrieved them, and paid attention as I pantomimed the right way to pressure the correct key into the lock. He let me in, and I tried (miserably failed) to go down the corridor steps on crutches. I didn’t hear him lunge, but felt my shoulder gripped I stared at the corner my forehead almost slammed into. Thank you so much for catching me despite the sweaty shirt. Also, you bike is super cool.

Ed gave me crutching tips, Hamo and the guys had a variety of jokes concerning my steady package arrival, Edin talked about geometry like a square, and for some reason: Crystal kept pumping her fist into the air after parties. We had conversations about running barefoot, scooters, cars, and concerning facial hair. Zuma… Michelle…. Cynthia… and any others who I suspect thought the beard was unattractive- know that it felt great, and is coming back! Conditioner, combs, fingers, and best of all: frosty wind: made it wonderful.

Thank you Sami for understanding my foolishness with the water. Sorry, my mistake.

I quit my job in earnest of becoming a programmer, and in the long term: a harper troubadour (someday: robot symphonies!). It took me a couple of months to learn Python, and in late August, I wondered: What next? And more importantly… where? Michelle had just shopped London of more goods than she could take back on a plane, and Ed was about to vacation in the United Kingdom. Their travels encouraged me to visit, and maybe live in Scotland. I fell in love, wrote poetry, and intend to be a Scottish citizen (There was also a small visit to London:

It’s been a pleasure everyone. Keep in touch? I use Facebook, so let’s be friends.

-Andrew Guthrie

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