On the ride up, I listened to the whole Beatles catalog in my ipod, but once I got to town in order to get all psyched up, I switched over to Kid Rock. Aaaah, yes, nothing quite like white boys pimping like the K-I-D, strapped with A-K's straight from the Chinese, to stir up a little anti-authoritianism. On my way over to the house, I remember those Israeli guys who crashed over my place, and how they came walking in with a six pack of Corona's. The illustrious Mister Rock had just been bragging about how he could drink about 15 Heinekens. Perfect, to supplement that bag of apples I picked up at an upstate orchard, I'll bring a six-pack of Holland's finest.
So I roll in, and am met by an older woman who informs me that I should park the bike in the garage, and come on in, and so I do. I get inside, and introduce myself; the older woman's name is Carol, and she's Jay's mom. A 29 year old guy still living with his mother? Seems highly irreuglar, however I don't know the story; maybe he's keeping this ship afloat. Jay's just outside on the phone. When I ask where I should put my stuff, and she says that Jay's room will be good, and that this black girl sittin' there in the kitchen could show me where it was. She appears to be between the ages of 18 and 23, and I assume she's Jay's girlfriend.
I pull out the six pack, and offer beers around, declined universally, and ask if Carol minds I have one, go on ahead she says. Beers in the fridge, I hand over the bag of apples and tell her how much I appreciate the place. After about 20 minutes of mildly awkward small talk (experience with couchsurfing, work, etc.) during the course of which I meet Kyoto, the Japanese foreign exchange student, Carol heads on upstairs for bed, and Jay comes in. I offer him a beer, which kinda freaks him out a little. He tells me there's no alcohol in the house, so I ask him what to do with it, and he says to put it out in the garage, and I respectfully oblige. I am after all a guest, and I want to respect the house.
More small talk with Jay. After about 15 minutes I learn that in addition to doing marketing consulting work for Phillip Morris, Jay travels extensively doing evangelical work.
NYCBiker: Dude, that's really cool that you get to travel around so much. That must be awesome to have a job that let's you see so much of the country.
Jay: Yeah, I have to say that my life has really changed so much for the better thanks to God.
NYCBiker: Who?
Jay: God.
NYCBiker: Oh yeah, that guy.
Turns out Jay's a Jesus Freak, and he travels extensively spreading the word of Jesus, as if there's anybody out there that hasn't heard of him by now. I have a look around the room, sure enough there's bibles everywhere, and instead of artwork, there are framed psalms hanging on the wall. Oh Fuck. The weirdness continues when Omboogway comes walking in.
Omboogway is introduced to me as Jay's brother. Carol and Jay are white. Omboogway is black and clearly has a Nigerian accent, and like the black girl I met earlier, appears to be between the ages of 18 and 24. If you've ever seen the movie Garden State, there's a scene where Zack Braff first goes over to Natalie Portman's house, and it's kinda shabby, and there are animals running around everywhere, and then her Nigerian brother comes walking in. Well, Zach Braff is kinda overwhelmed by his surroundings. It was that type of experience. Jay also refers to the young black girl as his sister as well.
So, everybody heads on off to bed, and I'm thinking "Hell Yeah!" because I'm exhausted and want to get some sleep, when in walks Ming, a young Asian chick. I'm spread out on the couch in the living room with my sleeping bag. and she wants to chill and talk. Now being a guest, I didn't want to be rude or anything, so I have to chill and BS with Ming. She refers to herself as Jay's sister. Ming breaks out her laptop, so I figure I'll get on that WiFi, put up an ad on Craigslist Casual Encounters, see if I can't get some Albany pussy while I'm up here. Eventually she goes to bed and I can get some zee's. Or so I though.
I pass out for about an hour, but wake up to the sound of music playing. Now it's not blasting out the speakers, but it is playing loud enough to keep me up. I look over, and see that Jay's got his door open, and I hear its... its... Jesus music! Jay's playing fucking Jesus music! What The Fuck! Now, I'm thinking, "Ok, so this dude clearly loves Jesus, and many people like to listen to music to fall asleep, hopefully the CD will just play through, and won't be on repeat". Again, I'm trying to be a gracious house guest, but this is extremely rude and inconsiderate. I might think that Miles Davis is the shit to relax to, but I would never expect a house guest to share my taste in music, and I would never do something to disturb a guest while they're trying to get some sleep. The fact that it was Jesus music only made it that much more annoying. Equivalent to me playing George Carlin or Bill Hicks all night.
So it's not a CD, and it's not on repeat, but it's not stopping. As the night goes on, I'm thinking "this mutha-fucka is playing his whole Itunes Christian rock catalogue. I hear some bitch preaching about how we have to testify, and getting more and more pissed off by the minute. This SOB is trying to subliminally Jesus-ify me while I'm sleeping!
Around 5 in the morning, I start thinking how awesome it would be if I had my
special isolation headphones so I could play the ocean sounds in my Ipod, get some Zee's and say Fuck-all to this rude, Jesus-loving piece of shit. But the headphones broke, and I sent them in under warranty. Bastard. Takes me another half an hour to come up with the bright idea of downloading some kind of nature sounds mp3 to drown out the Jesus. Brilliant! Jungle rain mp3 in, set to repeat, play. Jesus go bye-bye. First thing in the morning, I'm packing up all my shit, and hitting the road. Here comes the sleep.
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