Going into the Closet...

Out behind my apartment there is a little grassy area that I like to take the pugs. Its safe, there are no cars or roads for them to run out to... just grass and fire ants. The way Florida should be.
Well, last week, a nicely dressed man passed us on our way to the grass. I noticed that he looked as though he had just come from the office, but instead of going into an apartment, he unlocked one of the storage closets, and went in.
That's not that strange. Maybe he had to get something, right? Well, I must have stood there with my pugs for a good five minutes (Maya will hold it until she literally explodes, so this is a daily event.) After five minutes and the dogs had accomplished their "goals." We went back inside. The man never came out of the closet.

I didn't really think too much about it. Sure, its weird... but it was out of my mind as soon as it came... much like just about any other piece of information floating between my ears these days.

This evening, as I was going outside with Midas and Maya, I again passed the man I had seen the other day. Today he was wearing work out clothes and carrying a shiny pink bag stuffed with paper... like a gift. The dogs barked... I apologized, he laughed, and we went our separate ways. Sort of. I was standing with them in the grass preparing for the agonizing grass christening ritual, when I saw that once again, he unlocked and entered the storage closet. WHAT THE HELL?

This was truly weird. I wondered for a moment if I was mistaken and it was an apartment. No, that would be impossible, there is nothing on the other side of that wall.... it would literally be the world's smallest efficiency. I wondered if he needed a quiet place to read or something and didn't want to be bothered by... bugs? I really can't come up with anything that doesn't register just a little bit on the freakometer.

All of a sudden, from the opposite direction, a woman was walking back from the gym. You know the type, she feels that wearing anything more than hot pants and a sports bra would be bad for the ozone layer somehow her hair is swept up and curled as if she will be attending the prom... well... with Richard Simmons. Anyway. We didn't say anything to each other. She walked right past me and I could see her go into the same closet. The light was on inside. Then just as quickly the door shut and neither of them came out as long as I was outside.

Mmmm. Steamy Florida storage closet affairs. Fun for all.