Wash N' Poof!
Thursday, June 22nd, 2006I’m standing in front of a wall of eight large industrial dryers. I’m trying to figure out how often my Bounce softener sheet makes contact with my black shirt, which by the way, has now spun in a complete circle over 48 times. Yet again HE leaves the laundromat door wide open. I begin to shiver in the cool night air, close the door AGAIN, and try to start counting – but it’s no use. It’s late, I’m cold, and I want to go home. I place my hands on the dryer door, it warms them quite nicely, and I give myself a pep talk. Your new dryer will arrive tomorrow…you’ve got just seven more minutes and then you’ll never have to visit the Wash N’ Fold Laundromat again. Just keep counting.
HE has a full head of silver white hair and has been folding towels since I arrived. HE is the slowest towel folder I have every witnessed. He has carried three piles of white bath towels to his car – leaving the door open each time, which I then close. I’m fascinated and annoyed, why does a man need over 20 white bath towels, and why doesn’t HE close the door?
His long mustache and beard are also silver white. He wears very tight bleached blue jeans and has tucked the hems into his worn brown boots. His black fleece jacket is tucked into his waist, which is hugged by a wide brown belt with a large square silver buckle. He looks like Cowboy Santa. I can see his reflection in the dryer door. Our eyes lock and HE says:
CS: Doing laundry is a hurtful job.
Me: What do you mean hurtful?
He looks up and down at the row of washing machines and doesn’t answer right away…he must be folding his thoughts together.
Finally he says… (more…)
