She: Mine was kuboo 2321, a mini-storage with 2sqm on the second floor. His unit was the one in front of mine. Inside, it looked like a studio but it was as messy as you’d expect a man to be. There were boxes, blankets and canvases everywhere, cans of paint, bags, endless junk in need to be decluttered.
He: At least once or twice a week, we’d cross paths in the KUBOO corridor, always in the late afternoon. A shy smile was all I’d gotten from her so far. Not that I’d tried very hard or anything, but she aroused a different kind of curiosity.
She: He usually carried boxes and cases in and out of his kuboo, always apologizing for the inconvenience and the noise… I didn’t mind, in a way it was a companion, it reminded me that my kuboo neighbor was there.
He: One day I saw her struggling to put together one of those shelves they sell here at KUBOO and I decided to offer her a hand. We started chatting and I helped her with more than just the shelf… and I realized that she had also helped me, without even knowing it.
We ended up unintentionally storing each other’s baggage.
One thing led to another and we were still talking when Bela from reception came to do her round before closing the store. We had no idea the time had passed.
She: Fortunately, KUBOO has 24-hour access, so we were able to spend some more time talking together.
When my stomach started to growl, I invited him to dinner. I still had a lot of packing to do, but I think we both eventually made space for a new beginning.
We were Kuboo neighbors…and we still are, friends friends, kuboos aside.