Dagger

Three day Thanksgiving weekend. It was a Wednesday.

I got off of work and went shopping for a new outfit for a date later that evening.

A typical tattooed guy who was in a band.

He was a metal head or should I say “doom head”.

Very smart, talented and intense –

But also reserved, gentle and kind.

He also had a phenomenal taste in music and we hit it off seemingly perfectly. For our first outing he surprised me with tickets to a doom metal concert. A genre I have never experienced live.

When I arrived to his home it was a cold, rainy night in downtown LA.

He said he lived in the arts district and the address he had provided, brought me to a strange warehouse.

Ironically to add to the autumn gloom, it was raining. And I sat in my car with the doors locked. A little uneasy about my unfamiliar surroundings.

Texted him I was here and made a joke about this is where I would be murdered.

He laughed and said he would come right out.

When I saw him I stepped out of the car and we both approached each other. Luckily I had shared my location with my close friends. So there was a little security in that sense.

I told them to call 911 if I did not text back within the hour.

When I saw the guy, I was memorized with how handsome he was. This dark, well groomed figure with a soft smile. But his eyes now, were what really what caught my attention immediately.

They were bright icy blue with jet black eyelashes.

We hugged and proceeded to walk towards the warehouse.

I looked at him from the corner of my eye as we were dogging massive rain puddles in uneven concrete. He was sporting a nice pair of Doc Martin’s and a few layers on. A jean jacket with the hoodie over his beanie.

Total guitarist look and the conversation flowed like his love for this ever looping doom genre. I was certainly already captivated. But the awe ahead was only about to begin.

As we walked, he told me it was an old PBR Brewing building that they converted into lofts where international students, actors, directors and musicians resided.

We kept walking through the still, dark night.

I laughed and joked, “I’m sure it’s very nice and not creepy on such a night as this”. He then walked closer with me. It felt more comfortable.

When we came towards the entrance, he pointed to a narrow catwalk and said he would take me up there later. The views of the city were to die for.

As we walked through the narrow stairways, there were many foreign people bumping by and chatting in the corners of stairways.

Well dressed, cute German girls squeezed past us with warm laughs and smiles.

The moment we arrived at his gated door – I was in awe.

The ceilings were so tall with beautiful windows and heavy burgundy velvet theater curtains that would separate the kitchen from the “viewing room”.

He said he specifically lived with some of the directors, musicians, actors, and all sorts of other creatives.

And it was very evident.

There were guitars laying around everywhere. PA’s and other equipment. Paintbrushes and pianos.

All organized and tidy. Cats roamed high and low. In little hidden corners and crevases.

He said everyone in this community who lived here, all helped each other out.

It was so fascinating.

Being amidst a space like that was such an experience in itself that I am forever grateful for.

There were random movable stairways in his loft that would lead to other rooms. It almost seemed like a Harry Potter movie.

He showed me his cat named Dagger, which he was quite proud of.

A gray male cat with bright green eyes that looked like a lion.

Later we took an uber and went to the show.

During the concert we did not say very much but in between we would go outside and talk to the other concert goers.

When the show was over we just went back to his room and listened to music and asked each other many life pondering questions. Our answers differed but the respect was mutual and appreciated.

That night, the sensory experience was something I will never be able to forget.