Through that door, lives a 40-some-odd year old man and his mother. His name is Tom. He's the neighbor who tries to catch you on your way in or out. The first time i saw him, I was taking some of my belongings out of my car in the parking lot. I heard a voice say, "Ahh so you got lucky number 7 huh?(parking space number)"
I looked up and saw a toppless guy with a gynormous beer gut from his window.
"I had that space for 12 years! I'm over there in number 9 now."
Ahhhh yes. The exlusive company of Sussex town folk.
And it went alright. The high school thing freaks me out, though.