Connie and the Sandman Ladies Activity

Laundry Room Lounge
Miles Hall
15:10 September 7, 2008

While I was doing my laundry, I went to go sit in the lounge across the hall. It is a comfortable, carpeted room that's very well lit and good for doing homework or just relaxing. In the room there are two sofas, deep pink with wooden arms. In the middle of the rectanglar room are two sqaure tables, both of them wooden, each with three chairs. The chairs are wooden as wll, but still comfortable, with red cushions on the seats and backs. Two all wooden chairs rest against the side wall, and another red chair like the ones around the tables sits haphazardly in the centre of the room facing one of the couches. In front of the other couch is a low wodden coffee table. In addition to the furniture, the room is made appealing by the abundance of windows. There are four; two which face Washington Street, one looking towards Barringer Hall, and the last looking out into the hallway. It is a sunny day, and light pours in through the outside-facing ones.

When I enter the room there are three people in there already. I go and sit down at one of the wooden tables, and then take a look around to see who is in there with me. A boy and a girl sit on the couch. The boy has dark hair and wears brown shorts, a white T-shirt, and glasses. The girl wears jeans and a top with thin straps. She's pale and has rosy cheeks, a sharp nose, and long, dirty blonde hair. They aren't really doing anything, but the girl is stroking the boy's head. Just a couple minutes after I arrive, the two of them get up together and leave the room.

At the other table, a boy sits doing his homework on his computer. He has curly blonde hair, is pale, and is wearing a black T-shirt. There is a book sitting open on the table next to him, and he looks back to it periodically as he works. But no one makes any noise, and the room is still and quiet. In through the open windows drift the sounds of leaves rustling in the gentle breeze, faint conversation as people walk by, and birds calling to one another. Occassionally, a car or truck will pass. The only sounds coming from inside the building are the clanking of the washers and driers across the hall in the laundry room and the soft clicking of Computer Boy's fingers on the keys as he types.

I sit for a few minutes in the stillness. Outside Newman Hall there is karaoke, and if I listen very closely I can just make out the songs. Then, suddenly, a new boy enters. He is short with short brown hair and his cheeks are red as though he has just run several miles. He wears black mesh shorts with a white stripe down each side, a grey T-shirt, and flip flops. The boy greets us and goes to sit down on a sofa. Computer Boy and I acknowledge him, then go back to our respective assignments. He is carrying a sandwich and a smoothie from Owens, and after he sits down he unwraps the sandwich and begins to eat it.

The boy finishes his sandwich quickly. He crumples the wrapper that his sandwich used to be in and stands, glancing for a moment at the reciept from his lunch. He then picks up his detergent and smoothie, and exits the room. He doesn't close the door behind him, but rather leaves it ajar. The stillness and silence are relaxing but they make me feel restless, and I click my pen a few times. Computer Boy taps his fingers and feet as he works, and he even birps once, but then the silence returns. The gentle breeze blowing in from the window is all the disrupts the tranuility of the room.

A silver pickup truck drives past the windows along Washington Street, and the rap music from the radio can clearly be heard even over the noise of the engine. Somewhere in the ceiling comes the sound of running water. The noise persists for several minutes, and I think to myself that someone upstairs must be taking a mid-afternoon shower. I then notice that the clicking of computer keys has stopped; Computer Boy is no longer typing. He is either reading something on the screen or he is staring at it, pondering what to write next. But he remains completely silent except for the occasional sigh, shuffle, or sneeze.

Suddenly, Computer Boy stands and, leaving his laptop behind, walks out the door. I find it odd that he would leave the expensive machine behind. For the first time, I am completely alone. A new sound can be heard from outside; a clanging sound followed by either cheers or experssions of disappointment. I have no idea what it could be, but I wonder if it may be some sort of game. After about five minutes of absense, Computer Boy returns and goes back to his work, shutting the door and greeting me on the way. As the door closes I see Sandwich Boy walk into the laundry room. A few minutes later Sandwich Boy returns to the lounge with his smoothie, a sheet of paper and a workbook in his hands. However, he only remains for a moment before slurping the last bit of his smoothie, ooking once around the room, and exiting.