There was one point in time that I didn't know what basements were except to serve as hideouts. I got the shock of my life when I got to New York and I saw a lot of companies that advertise for
basement waterproof systems,
basement waterproofing paint and I even saw advertisements of
basement waterproofing contractors. I mean, what on earth do they do, really? What good would it do to the human race? Would a
waterproofing basement business do me loads of good? Or the bigger question is, would having my
basement waterproof promote world peace?
But then, I realized these are senseless rants; whims of a sad and depressed young girl who is currently trying her best to acquaint herself with her new surroundings.
That's right. I just moved and the house I moved in has a basement. At first, I have no idea what I would do with the place. I don't want it to be a storage area. Also, my mind was plagued with visions of horror films with basement scenes so I only go downstairs once every two weeks. I have no intentions of putting it to use for fear of "falling into my death" just like in those urban jokes that even the thought of going down there scares me.
One rainy and dreary afternoon in the early days of December though, my boyfriend had to spend the night at my place because he was mugged and he can't go home due to the weather. It was decided that he would sleep at the basement, for my bedroom is too small for us, not to mention my mom and dad would kill me. Even if we take for granted that mom and dad are like, time zones, continents and oceans away from where we are, they are a suspicious pair. I would even wonder why the phone is not ringing! Thank God for distance, I guess.
As my boyfriend was preparing for his makeshift bed, I cooked us dinner. Then I went to him to invite him up as I don't have the voice to shout for him. It has been raining the past few days and I have been sick so it was a relief also that I'd have company for the night.
I was shocked when I got to the basement. He arranged it, with the furniture that I stored inside(yes, I ended storing things inside, sue me!), he sort of made a lounge where people could relax. I was open-mouthed. And laughing.
He turned and opened his arms and I rushed inside still giggling with mirth. He looked at me smiling curiously. I told him that I never expected and never imagined that the basement could be, well, could be very cozy. After that, whenever he comes over, we spend almost all our times in that basement.
Looking back, it was funny and at the same time, ironic that that is where everything started between me and my husband. We still live in the same house and would you believe that that basement is now the master bedroom? I guess not. Anyway, it is thanks to him that I started appreciating those basements.
I only have to make sure they are waterproof.
