“This is the table fit for king vikings to drink and slam their glasses on!” proclaimed our housemate
“I mean….look at it. ” He gets down low, cheek to the grain, hand on the fiber. “I mean, really get down and look at it. This was made by nature.” He trails off a little saying the word ‘nature’.
“By the way does it smell like dead bodies to you guys?”
Cory is our housemate, a Canadian guy with a sharp sense of humor and a quick smile. He is on cloud nine from his capture of a sweet table, the only thing bringing him down is the fact the groundskeepers came and fertilized around our flat making it smell….well, not like dead bodies but what I image would be pretty close.
Im not quite sure how the 100 pound slab of Indonesian Tamarind ended up in our kitchen. Cory explained that he had run into a importer he knew in the back alleyway of the bike shop, which he works at. It was there, among the bone yard of bike parts and broken timbers he spotted an unopened crate. The owner said he could only look inside if he purchased the table or help him pack it up the stairs. Well, the table never made it up those stairs.
The fresh tan on his face told the story of the rest of his day. Spent sanding, grinding and oiling the raw pieces of wood.
“This was made by nature, with sunlight, cut down and now lives in our house. It is a piece of history.” His eyes a little wider now.
“That kinda bums me out man.” I said, but then I look at the table and his excitement and I realize Cory will haul this piece of art around the world with him if he has to. “But mostly I think its really cool.”
“How long do you think that smell is going to hang around?”