I was still fighting with a rebellious lock that kept on popping out while footsteps were heard on the stairs. It was the old Mr. Flex known as such because he is a retired calisthenics coach. The once bulging muscles are now replaced by the shrinking flesh of the old age and he falls into the category of "stick figure elders" that kept shriveling down until they walk around dangerously two-dimensional as opposed to the "Humpty Dumpty elders" that grow an age belly from their mid torsos and relatively stoop so that their hip lines merge with their backs. Per usual, he came to a halt on the last step and started staring at me so I had to greet him with a "Hello Mr. Flex".