People watching.

Have you ever sat at a busy intersection or on a park bench and just watched the people walking by? It’s fun. It’s fun to look at strangers and to pick up on their little eccentricities.
Lucky for me, I don’t have to go to a busy intersection or a park bench. Seems like all the interesting/weird/strange people are right here in my building.

Well to start off, I have my roommate Samer. His aquarium & its contents are probably worth more than all of my belongings combined. He recently bought this huge contraption that keeps the water cool. It hums all through the night. And yesterday there was this jumbo-sized delivery for him. I swear; the box was taller than me! It turns out it was a new light stand for his aquarium. (don’t ask what was wrong with his old light stand cause I have NO idea).
With all the gadgets that are running in his room, it’s like a sauna in there. Apparently the aussie summers aren’t warm enough for him!

More peculiar people:
There is this one guy that lives in my building that always, I mean ALWAYS scrubs his sandals with a worn out toothbrush and the water hose (which is located just around the corner from me) on Monday mornings. If it’s a Monday morning, he’s out there scrubbing away. Never really worked up the courage to comment on his somewhat obsessive scrubbing though.

Let me tell you about just one more weird guy.
There is this guy that always walks around in his boxer shorts. Actually, they’re briefs. Definitely briefs. I have yet to see him in a pair of PANTS! He walks around the building in his bright coloured briefs all the time. Oh no, they are not simple black or grey briefs. They are bright red or bright orange or even bright green. And not that I’m immature or homophobic (I actually don’t even know if he’s gay. but from the colour of his briefs I might venture a guess….) but that’s just a little too much visual info than I can deal with.
You know what the kicker is? The other day I bumped into him in front of the laundry machine – in his briefs of course – and we got to talking about this and that, and he asked how old I was. I told him to take a guess. He guessed 27. TWENTY-SEVEN! Do I look 27? I think I’m definitely approaching the age (or past it!) where I no longer feel good when someone says I look older than I am. We all go through this phase. When we’re in our teens we want to be told that we look old, or at least old-ER. But somewhere between 17 and 22, being told you look older than you are loses its appeal. I think in the end what really got me was not him thinking that I was 27 but his reaction when I told him my real age. He was just completely flabbergasted! He wouldn’t believe me.
What.?
Do I not look 22???