I'm visiting a community, and I'm in the apartment that the leader set up for me. It's a long, one-room studio. I'm lying down in bed at the door end of the apartment. As I look across the room, I reflect how backwards it is. I should move the bed to the opposite end, farthest from the door. But I remind myself that the arrangements are only temporary.
It's later in the day and I'm in another part of the building, a part that was once a bar. The leader is very much like Maurice Minnifield, and he is proudly showing me and a few others around and talking about the history of the place.
We stand before a glass display case that's flat and shaped like a semi-circle. He is pointing to various objects inside. One is a trading card with the famous hockey player "Howard Clarke" shown on it. JR, the cute young female engineer who is also part of the group blurts out, "I didn't know Clarke Howard was a hockey player." We all laugh, along with her, because she realizes that she switched the names around and that Clark Howard is the financial adviser.
Smiling, we look at each other and lean our heads together. Then I place my hand on her back and rub affectionately up and down. And she's fine with that, even though her boyfriend is right next to her.
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