There are lots of kinds of bad people in this world. There are some that may have been born good but turned evil due to circumstance. There are some simply born bad and then there are the worst, most inexcusable of all… those that don’t take their clothes out of communal washers and dryers after their cycle is finished.

I was in the midst of dealing with one of these evil beings when I noticed something in the laundry room of my apartment building I should have noticed long before I did… a thick metal door tucked down the end of a dusty hallway next to where the dryers rested. A modern structure of strength out of place in the ancient bowels of my 20s-era apartment building, the door looked like the only thing in the entire room which hadn’t been decomposing since the 70s.

With the laundry lingerer’s abandoned clothes now resting on top of the dryer and my stuff getting tumbled in hot air for the high price of $1.25, I tip toed through the harsh light of the basement hallway towards the steely door. This was not usually the kind of thing I would do, but the extra glass of pinot grigio I downed with my otherwise boring dinner melted my usual fears into curiosity.

The cold door right in front me, I stared at the unmarked steel for a few moments before I slowly pulled my hand back and brought it down into a harder knock than I had planned. I stood cold for a few moments, near shivering until…