It's All Basically the Same

Walking down the hall, I opened the door in to our common room in the Quad. To my surprise, I saw a scattered array of tools on the furniture, a shiny motorcycle, and Morris working intently on the handle bars. It's not something that I had seen before, so I was naturally inquisitive. "So is it still messed up from when it was stolen?" I asked. "Yeah, it was a pro job, they added a resistor and saudered it on to the ignition switch," stated Morris while holding a piece of wire in front of me, "these guys were a bunch of pros". Apparently his new motorcycle had been a victim to south Longview chop shoppers, and he was righting the wrongs on his fine piece of machinery. After chatting for a few minutes, I left for my room down the hall. While only being at my desk for a few minutes, I was roused from day dreaming by a loud "riinnnggrooomvroroooom!!!" in the lounge. I thought for a moment, realized that someone had started up a motorcycle in the lounge, and then I sat and thought again, "someone just started a motorcycle in the lounge." Now we learn a lot in RA training, but there's nothing in the manuals or fine fees about "motor vehicles in the lounge" and that's more of security's area anyway, since they give out the stickers and all. So I thought privileged, not many people get to hear a motorcycle start indoors like that, it's breathtaking really. With everything weighed out in my head, I chose to laugh and continue work in my desk while hoping that Morris' bandana didn't get caught in a gear or something that would fling him throught the front window. And thus, Morris fixed his battered bike in the lounge of Quad 1.