Resthome quirk (2 of 2): A possibly emergent hobby.

The other week, I was passing by the social hall in the evening, and I hear someone playing the piano, so I pop in and it's not the old retired piano player who sometimes plays concerts for people, but rather the (very young) (chubby) (Mexican-American) maintenance guy, who I had no idea he could play the piano.

The next time I see the old retired piano player, then, I tell him that, and he says that the guy doesn't actually know how to play the piano, but rather he was watching him play the other day and he encouraged him to experiment, and the young maintenance guy has "an ear for consonance" like you never hit two adjacent keys, and he was just experimenting like that and moving between different combinations of keys that sounded good, over and over and over.

"I told him he should take a class when he goes to college next year," the old retired piano player was like.  "You can tell he's intrigued."

He then asked me if I had ever heard him play, and I said yes, the other week when I was by the social hall and he was playing a Cats medley for some people, I stopped and listened for a bit before I had to run off and go do some work.

"Cats?", he was like.  "That's like falling off a log.  Sometime you should hear me really play!"