There's something a lot of people don't know about me. I was once in the closet. And I came out of the closet, and went back in it, and came out, etc etc ad nauseaum. Only my closest friends at the time knew. I mean, I kept it under wraps... pretty embarrassing to admit I was ever in it, or to be seen coming out. I couldn't win either way.
That closet was small and narrow. Not a whole lot of room in there. It was close and stifling, but the real world was right outside the door, hence my bouncing back and forth a lot. I really wanted to join that outside world but it was pretty scary. Sometimes strangers would make rude comments, flirt aggressively, invite me to questionable parties, try to take advantage of me... but on the other hand, it was exciting and usually fun, at least for someone new to the scene. A whole 'nother world was outside that closet and all I had to do was step out.
Or in my case, crawl out... you see, the closet was in a garage converted into a studio apartment. A small studio. There was a single-unit stove/fridge/cupboard that couldn't have been more than 2 feet wide, a teeny bathroom and upright shower, and enough room left over for a fold-out couch and a TV set and a little table. The only door was a single sliding-glass one that caught on the frame a lot. And there was a closet.
There were three of us attempting to cohabit in this space. Repeat: three adult-sized human persons living in a glorified single-car garage. Two of them (male persons) slept on the couch; in order to fold it out, they had to put the table up and rearrange whatever items were in the way, which was anything larger than a deck of cards. When I arrived I was invited to share the couch with the two guys. But my eye was on that closet... All our clothes hung on the rack and I made my space in the three feet below the clothes. Added an alarm clock, bedding, and a book light and presto! I was the only one there who had my own room!
The downside was that if I got up before the bed was put away for the day (and it often wasn't) I'd have to climb over a roommate or two to get to the bathroom or the door. I banged my shins/knees/toes countless times on the frame. Woe to the person who left his shoes on the floor the night before, as he would have to wedge himself under the saggy bed to find them. I left mine (white-and-turquoise L.A. Gear hightops with smiley-face laces) outside on the patio until somebody stole them. After I got new ones they went in the closet with me along with everything else I owned at the time. I could no longer stretch my legs out all the way but my stuff was safe.
That wee bit of space was home to some wild goings-on. Ever seen one of those deals where some college kid tries to see how many of his buddies will fit in a VW Bug? That was the apartment on a party night. Someone would bring some tunes, someone else showed up with a bottle, and before we knew it there'd be a dozen people crammed in there. On a few occasions wherever a person fell, they stayed for the night, so in the morning I'd open my closet door to see a pile of bodies all askew on the floor and the (unopened) couch. I don't remember most of their names, if I ever knew.
Other times I'd be trying to sleep, but one of my roomies was a Nintendo freak, the type of guy who will play the same game overandoverandover for hours on end until he beat the game or the rental place sent him nasty letters. At that time it was Tiny Toon Adventures. He refused to turn down the volume, too, saying he liked the theme music and couldn't play without it. (Side note: his addiction cost him his job.) My other roommate had a job and was gone most of the time, but when he was there his jealous, spoiled, foulmouthed witch of a girlfriend would come by sometimes to scream at him. Or the other guy, if her BF wasn't around, because he wasn't around. They got married eventually and now they're divorced. Didn't see THAT coming!
I finally had to move. My share of the rent went up to a whopping $80, Roomie 2's girlfriend hated me (I think she hated everyone though), and Tiny Toons was driving me Looney Tooney. I said goodbye to my closet, came out of it for the last time and left for new adventures in apartment-sharing... and those are more than I want to think about right now.
Dang, I miss those shoes.
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