K, there's this guy who lives at our apartment complex that we call the "antrax man." He has long, wavy brown hair, he's short, and it seems that perhaps his arms are longer than they should be. I originally thought Brandon had been calling him the "anthrax man" because he was creepy and could probably use anthrax to in some harmful way, but actually it was because he has the anthrax band sticker on the back of his little S-10 truck. It turns out that he's actually a pretty nice guy, always waving or saying "hi" whenever he walks by.

Tonight he scared me senseless while I was filling up one of the washing machines in the apartment laundry room. Actually, I was kinda waiting for the water to fill up, which is totally loud, while the dryers behind me whirred causing even more noise, when the door directly behind me flew open (in order to get into the laundry room-if you're holding anything-you have to give the door a good kick and lung in, because the spring will pull the door right back on you) and in jumps the anthrax man. I can't imagine the look that must have been on my face because he immediately burst into laughter and said, "I scare you, eh? Hahah!" Yeah, he scared me good.