Here was the scene. It was your typical public laundromat. Dirty floor. Rows of Washers and rows of dryers. Several people milling about. Folding. Washing. Lounging.
We picked our machines and put our roll of quarters in each one to begin. I think it was something like twelve dollars for a wash. I’m remembering how easy it was to do laundry at home...when our washer actually worked. Mindy thought it would be fun for Maggie to experience the laundromat. So this is why we all 3 went. I don’t know that whole families generally go to the laundry together, but we sure did. The family who launders together stays together.
There were 4 arcade games, but only 2 were operational. Both were “unnamed” games that have never been heard of. My daughter immediately spotted these, so we played. She had fun, but I wanted my money back. The television was on. It was the “Ellen Show”. She was talking about having had some near death experience. I was thinking that we might have a death experience of our own today. It might have been the worst television ever viewed in public. If it were a device intended to reflect every light hanging from the ceiling so as to mask what was actually on the screen...it would have been the best such device in history. As a television however, not so much.
A lady was behind the counter to offer a “Wash and Fold” option. She looked like she had been washed and folded herself. I’m not sure what that even means, but we pass on that option.
There was a guy who was busy with his own laundry while we were there. Normal enough except for one thing. Every few minutes, he would let out a chuckle. I’ll call him Charlie Chuckle. The first time I heard it, I rationalized it as a cough. The second time I heard it, I knew it was a laugh. I looked for ear buds thinking that maybe he was listening to some type of podcast. No ear buds. I hadn’t heard him talking, but the next chuckle had me looking for a blue tooth. Nope. It was becoming clear that Charlie Chuckle wasn’t actually interacting with anyone “on the outside.” Whoever he was conversing with was inside his head. So that was cool. At least he was laughing at himself and not upsetting himself. That could’ve been odd.
Back to our laundry. Our games were finished and the television was unwatchable and finally it was time to get our laundry out of the wash. Washer 1, no problem. Washer 2...major problem. As we began to pull the clothes out, we noticed it. It was unbelievable. By “it”, I mean Cat hair!! Oh my goodness, you wouldn’t believe it! There seemed to be more cat hair than clothes. If there is a cat equivalent to Cruela De ville...she uses this laundry mat. I’m allergic to cats, but this is really beside the point. This is pretty disgusting. If PETA had come in at this point, we would have had some major explaining to do. It was a cat crime scene and we’d just become part of the cover-up.
Obviously, we have to rewash our clothes...in a different washer. I wipe down our old washer to get rid of our prints. I’d hate to see some kind of Cat CSI team come in and get busted for a crime I didn’t commit. I make a quick run to the bank to take out a personal loan. Thankfully I’m approved and come back with twelve more dollars for the additional load.
More time is wasted. More TV. More chuckles.
Finally, our wash was complete and we loaded up and left. That’s when it hit me. Of course! Why had I not put this together sooner?
What’s the moral of this story?
Sometimes, when a guy laughs every couple of minutes, it’s because he knows who used your washing machine before you did.
Well played Charlie Chuckle, well played.
Hope you have a day that makes you laugh.
JJ
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