i've sort of gotten to know a monk who practices on the (built in 1775 by famed family of organ builders, the cavaille-coll family, and now classed as a historical monument) organ that sits in the balcony directly above my head, often until after i close up shop.
i have this idea of monks kind of looking like friar tuck in the animated version of robin hood, but this dude looks like he could be a soccer player or something. he's one suave looking monk.
today he mistakenly came a day early for a lesson and was praying in the pews for half an hour, waiting for the organist. then he explained his predicament and asked if i had seen him, to which i fumblingly offered him my cell phone, because i wasn't sure if monks are amish-like in their technical limitations. guess not. also he didn't have his number, so i apologized for his troubles, and he smiled and said 'no, it's okay, i don't mind being here,' and laughed like we were sharing an inside joke like 'YEAH HAHA I DON'T MIND BEING HERE BECAUSE I'M A MONK AND HAVE DEVOTED MY ENTIRE EXISTENCE TO THE DEITY AND CONCEPT TO WHICH THIS EDIFICE WAS CONSTRUCTED SO NO LOL I DON'T MIND CHILLIN HERE.'
so yeah my experience thus far with monks.