I went to Gilman twice this past weekend, and going back to Gilman feels like thanksgiving dinner at the home of your cool uncle, who used to be cooler, but at least he never sold out. Not like the others… Of course he lives in an apartment that was built in the 60s, and even though his record collection is pretty awesome, it’s hard to hear at times because the speakers are old and dusty, or maybe he just needs to change the needle on that dusty old turntable of his? Anyway, it’s cool because you can show up after not showing up for a long time, and all that he asks is that you clear the table when you’ve finished eating. Oh, but it would be awesome if you helped do some dishes after, but at the very least if you could pass the mashed potatoes, then that’s all we ask of you. To be honest, you could eat, leave your plate, throw your leftovers in the toilet before you leave, and you’d still be welcome back, just apologize before next thanksgiving. Always remember that even though he refers to them as “little kids tables”, there’s still a space for you.
The end, need coffee.
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