The Rest of the House

So at the end of the long, dark hallways is a door. You open the door and you step into the area that will take you in two directions. Direction one, up the stairs and into the garage; or direction two, around the corner and into another storage area (I told you before that it would be absolutely ridiculous to want more storage space).

There is one room (the room on the left) where I store my bike and a few other things. That room has a plexi-glass window.

Weird, yah? It's gets weirder...

You can look into that plexi-glass window and view a padded room (walls, ceiling, everything)

and there is a mattress on the floor. (I think there used to be a pillow on the bed)

When Colette and I came to look at the house a few days before we actually moved in, we discovered this room. Nobody lived here last summer so we didn't have electricity when we came to look at the house. We used the light from my cell phone. When we ventured into this area of the house and saw this room, I was more than creeped out and wanted to get out of there-FAST!

After complaining to my friend, Ryan, about the room he came and took a look. There were some stickers on the door that were drum set brands and things of that nature. He assured me the room was just a recording/practice booth. Although that settled my fears a wee bit, the room is still creepy.

We gave that room a name that first night we saw it; and regardless of the real use for that room, the name has stuck. It is The Rape Room. So my house is wonderful, even with The Rape Room. It makes for a good story and a wonderful conversation starter for visitors:

"This is a cool place to live."

"Hey, thanks. We like it."

Awkward pause. Nobody knows what to say next.

"So we have this rape room..."

And now you know, the rest of the story.