Today I'm going to share a story...
I pull up to the laundromat in my brothers old classic caprice as Adele's rustic voice fills my ears and I feel the wind in my hair blowing through like the strings in her song. I turn the car off, unload my dirty clothes and head for the door. It's held open by a middle aged Latino man. I nod my head as I attempt to act like the bag I'm carrying isn't too much for me when in reality all I want to do is throw it down, pour lighter fluid on it, and be done with it all.
As I enter I look around and head for my normal washing machine area. I am surprised to find the laundromat is full. Full of more Latinos. Let me state this now: I love them. So get any racist thoughts out of your head. I'm telling a story.
I drag my bag of could be fire food towards the machines, only to find that every single one is now in use. A choice word slips through my lips. I know the manager has seen my exasperated face and probably the word that shouldn't have been uttered. She comes up to me and asks if I want to separate my clothes or just do one load. "Psh! I don't separate them. One load!"
She leads me through the maze of washers, dryers, laundry carts and more Latinos, to a beautifully open washer. That will hold all my laundry in one single solitary lovely beautiful simplistic isolated....load. I throw piece of clothing into the machine as fast as possible, only slowing to fasten a bra so it doesn't catch any of my other clothes while washing. I see/feel a man watch me as I do this. Awkward feeling #1 just occured.
Not to be distracted I finish shoving all of it into the machine. I'm excited because my book awaits me. I start the machine and head to my normal reading chair, where I prop my feet on the table and delve into my current book. (The 13th Tale by Diane Setterfield -amazing book!!)
....30 minutes later.
I emerge from my book and intuitively know that my laundry is clean. I grab a roller laundry cart and head to the washing machine. It is indeed done, I chuckle at my uncanny ability to pick up on these silly things. I open the door and shovel the damp clothes into the basket. I'm trying to be careful not to drop anything on the floor. Not only would it then be unclean, but then I'd have to bend over and I feel like the laundromat could be compared to a men's shower in a federal prison. Sock = soap = bad
I hurriedly roll my overflowing cart towards the last humongous dryer. I see a younger guy eyeing the dryer that I have currently sped in order to claim it as my own. (I do a victory dance and chuckle in my head. Never out loud...that would be rude)
I load it all up, and rush back to my book.
....22 minutes later.
I get up to check on my currently drying garments. As I round the corner from where I've been reading I observe that there is a man directly in front of me and to my right, both who are currently folding their clothe. I turn the power off on the dryer and wait for the spinning mass to stop. As my clothes come to a stop on the very top you see the one thing that shouldn't be awkward but is....red underwear. Awkward moment #2
From the corner of my eye, I see both men stop and look in the direction of my dryer. I open the door. One man's arms are in mid air, held in place by a magical web of creepiness. The other is boring holes through the glass with his super creeper laser vision. I touch the clothes and find them to be quite damp still. I close the door and press the power button again. The red is tossed back into the tumbled mess of clothing, and the frozen bodies come back to life and begin their process of folding. I walk away, turn the corner, and pick up my book.
....9 mintues later. My clothes are done. I fold them. I go home. The Latinos eyeball my brothers classic caprice.
