Won't you meet my neighbor?

Someone has finally taken up residence in the mysterious downstairs apartment which had been empty and unlocked for a very long time.

Legitimate or not (who knows? None of my business), there is somebody living there now. His name is Mark and he seems like a nice guy. There are only two really reMARKable (haw haw! I crack me up!) things about him:

1. He has a pet dragon. Her name is Daisy and that's her in the picture. It's hard to tell from the photo but she's pretty big. She likes the sunshine. Mark leaves his blinds open and when he lets her run around loose, which is often, she's usually hanging around the patio door like this, soaking up rays. Is that normal dragon behavior? I haven't a clue. But she seems cool. She's definitely cool to look at. I like her and I hope she likes me. The very last thing on my very long list of things I don't need is an enemy who is a dragon.
2. Mark has no furniture. Since he leaves his blinds open, you can see inside his whole apartment. And the only things in there are Daisy's dragonarium (I guess that's what you'd call it) and shoes, sitting on the floor. I mentioned this to him. "Mark", I said, "You have no furniture." "Yeah", he said, "I know". Okay then. Good talk, Mark.

And so that's my new flaky neighbor, Mark. I'm just glad the apartment is occupied since management had no interest in locking the place up while it was empty. That was really starting to unnerve me. I had no idea what might jump out at me from there some late night. Flakes, I can handle. I get flaky people. I like flaky people. There's something reassuringly dependable in their flakiness. So now if anything comes leaping out of there late at night, I'll know it's just Daisy the dragon lunging for my jugular (do dragons do that? Seriously, I have no idea).