• Laundry Day

    Upon entering J&R Laundromat, one experiences a deep feeling of melancholy and dread.

    Florescent lights shined on every surface, on every stain.

    It was stuffy in the place, always stuffy; the whirring fan did little to help clear the humidity or heighten our spirits.

    The strong smell of Tide mixed with perspiration reached my nostrils, and I could do nothing to resist its odor changing me from a human being to a walking zombie.

    It was easy to keep to yourself in the Laundromat, because everyone kept to themselves. No one fussed, no one raised their voices except to the laundress for assistance.

    People carefully unloaded clothes into washers, and creased every fold of every shirt.

    That is why the woman at dryer 22 so caught my eye; talking loudly on her cell phone and tossing clothing absentmindedly from the dryer, she broke the two cardinal rules of J&R.

    However, when she held up a pair of expensive jeans to inspect in the light, she became silent. That, perhaps, was the most eerie part of all.

    The orange spots were all over the pants, and having seen them, the woman immediately got off the phone and went after the laundress.

    A shouting match ensued between the two women. Between curses and insults, the lady with the messed-up jeans repeatedly asked for the owner of the Laundromat.

    “Let me see the manager!” the woman screeched at the laundress, not caring that she was causing a scene.

    By this time everyone stopped what they were doing and watched the proceedings with half-curiosity and half-amusement.

    The spell that the laundry put on us was dispelled and we looked on, alert and spellbound.

    One man in the back even stood snickering, using a freshly-washed underwear to muffle his mouth.

    All of the commotion was stopped by a loud horn sounding.

    The woman, jeans in hand, looked toward the door.

    She quickly stuffed the rest of her clothes in a bag, gave a long dirty look to the laundress, and rushed out the door.

    We heard the loud engine drive off, and looked toward the dryer where all of this happened just a few moments ago.

    The scent caught a hold of us again, and we returned to work.

    ...The jeans laid neatly draped over a lone basket.