This past weekend one of my roommates and I set out on a journey to find an acoustic guitar. The first place we went to was a pawn shop. My roommate had never been in one before.
The pawn shop we went to was small in size, but was piled with, lack of a better word "stuff." Guitars were dangling high from the ceiling; too high out of my reach. I asked for assistance.
Strumming my hands on the guitar I felt a sudden jolt of joy, a burst of energy came over me. My roommate attempted to tune one of the guitars, but the classic guitar had a stubborn mind of it's own and would not stay tuned.
We left the pawn shop still in search of a guitar. Getting back on the Metro we made a stop in Dupont Circle. Not too far off the Metro stop I heard a man playing guitar and singing. He sounded like a professional to me.
Strolling down a couple more blocks we found a place that sold guitars. I enjoyed going up the creaky, old wooden stairs to a room full of guitars. Space was tight in this guitar shop.
My roommate and I took turns sitting on a wooden stool playing guitar. Once again I felt the liveliness as my fingers danced on the strings, but to my dismay I did not purchase a guitar.
The hunt for a guitar is still on. I am not going to allow one day of bad luck stop me.
One highlight this past weekend was that I ate at Ben's Chili Bowl for the first time. I had the vegetarian chili. I liked it.