We’ve lived in this apartment building for over a year now, and that entire time, there’s been a gold Grand Am that parks near us…

… with the license plate “MYNXXX”.

Obviously, it’s been My Goal to find out who Mynxxx is.  This apartment building seems to be full of cranky old people… is one of them Mynxxx?  Maybe some hot old granny?  Or maybe there’s a cougar I haven’t seen around.  Maybe Mynxxx is a stripper, and that’s why her car is always here when we leave, because she’s working opposite hours from when we’re awake.

This afternoon, after a trip to IKEA and the grocery store, we pull into the parking garage… AND SOMEONE IS STEPPING OUT OF THE MYNXXX.

“Oh my God, Chris, it’s the Mynxxx!” I hissed. “Drive slowly!”

He cruised by, and I didn’t even try to hide the fact that I was looking at these people.

That’s right: people, plural.  A chubby orange-haired dude, very pale, wearing a t-shirt and shorts.  He didn’t interest me too much, other than me wondering how he justifies driving around in the Mynxxx-mobile — I mean, isn’t that a little bit emasculating?

And then there was her.  The Mynxxx.

Neither a cranky old person, nor a hot granny, nor a stripper, the Mynxxx looked like a cougar-in-training.  Slightly overweight, middle-aged, short dark hair, carrying a huge dark purse over one shoulder as she watched the ManMynxxx.  She wore a red velour sweatsuit without a shirt beneath it that I could see, only the two pieces were in different shades of red from one another.  She wasn’t wearing make-up or jewelry.

I couldn’t wait to get out of the car and hear The Mynxxx’s voice.  Rolling down my window as we passed seemed to cross the boundaries of creepiness that I toed by staring at her the way I did.  But as we pulled into our parking spot, she turned from the Mynxxx mobile, the ManMynxxx, and strutted away on Ugg-clad feet.

Seeing the Mynxxx? It made my day.