On a lonely Monday night, when many Cornell students were diving back into their homework or thinking about their post-graduation plans, a few made their way down the hill — to The Shop. A combination tattoo parlor-coffee shop turned nightclub, no, scratch that, intimate music venue, The Shop is one of the most intriguing enterprises ever to hit Ithaca.

On Monday night, Samantha Allen, a local Ithacan, opened for PJ Bond, a singer-songwriter from New Jersey. Samantha Allen, a pianist, guitar player and vocalist who also attends Ithaca College, started the night off with a bang by playing songs from her brand new demo CD. Allen and her band BLAME THE SIDEWALK played a number of songs off the demo CD, which, according to her, combines sounds of jazz, indie rock and classical music. After Samantha’s band wound down, most of the attendees got up for some french roast, while PJ started to get together his equipment for his set.

As we sat down, PJ extended a hand to all of us, introducing himself and thanking us for “coming to hang out.” He stomped the shit out of his boots, telling us that these were fairly new, threw his long hair back and told us that he was in Ithaca purely by chance. He went on to say that last April, he packed his belongings and has been traveling and living out of his car since, living a dream that everyone should and can achieve. In fact, he explained further that he is writing a book about his travels, titled “Year of a Thousand Roommates.”

Needless to say, knowing a little about PJ’s background made his show all the more interesting. Unfortunately, the man was sick from traveling for a couple hundred days straight. Nonetheless, he put together a diverse set, some of it from his upcoming album You Didn’t Know I Was Alphabetical, and some of his earlier work.

This included a slow, lyric-heavy song entitled “Baby Bones,” which is dedicated to his younger brother whom he will see at the end of his year of traveling, a whimsical song about an ex-girlfriend who did too many drugs, “Stop Being Bad,” and another upbeat, powerful foot-stomper temporarily titled “Robot Golf,” after the Nintendo game of the same name. The warmth of Bond’s voice, the personal topics of each of his individual songs and his casual banter in between tunes lent itself nicely to a memorable night.

Despite the fact that PJ’s voice couldn’t keep up with the rest of his act, his six-song set seemed to echo around the room, along with his voice, after his last song appropriately “Call Home.” As he lent his guitar to someone else in the audience, PJ walked over to the barista to ask for a hot water refill, to will some more life out of the tea.