Foobar

At the Laundromat

There are moments when the mess that is my life is most poignant. These moments can be so rare that you forget all the bad things and can actually enjoy yourself. Or, they can come in torrents where all you can do is grip the edge of your seat and clench your jaw to prevent yourself from biting your tongue off in the commotion.

Sitting here, in the laundromat, is one of those moments that are torrents. Sitting here, with my whites in washer 17, my colors in washer 18, washer 19 I skip because it smells of urine, and my towels in washer 20. In the laundromat is where I realize that my life sucks because I am sitting in a laundromat, washing my clothes in machines that are misbalanced and shake as if posessed, or do not drain properly and leave a layer of human filth (hopefully that's all it is) waiting for my underpants to absorb like white psuedo-cotton sponges.

The dancing misbalanced machine bugs me, so I kick my enormous size 13 and one half wide shoe into it, bracing my back to the wall, and forcing the vibrating washer to sit the fuck still.

It didn't used to be like this. I had a private washer and dryer, sitting in my, heaven forbid, private laundry room in the back of my private residence. Any human filth in my washing machine was my human filth. Any posessed and dancing machine was my posessed and dancing machine.

An elderly woman shuffles into the laundromat and sits down next to me. She begins to get animated and angry. Jabbing her finger at my washing machine she says, “Goddammed dog! I told you to stay the fuck out of my bedroom. Fucking convict! Gonna hand-cuff you and send you back to the fucking penitentary, fucking dog!”

I take my foot from the dancing machine to let its noise drown her out.

But it doesn't. She raises her voice, and jabs her finger at my machine, shaking her flaby arm as if the machine was verbally attacking her back. “Fucking kids! Took my damned bus pass! Mother fucking convict dogs! I told every GOD-DAMNED one of you to fucking dogs to stay out of my bedroom! God-damned convict! Fucking kids!”

Then, as her fury reaches a crescendo and her bulging eyes turn red with anger, a calm washes over her, her features soften, her eyebrows droop to the sides of her head, and with a tremor in her voice and a quiver in her lips she looks to me and says, “Sir? I was wondering if you could help me? I was outside at the bus stop and some hoodlums stole my bus pass.” At 'bus pass' her voice falters and she seems at the point of tears. “Sir? Could I borrow two dollars from you so that I can afford the bus and ride it to my sister's home where I can get a new bus pass?”

Her breath smells of some toxin I am unfamilier with. Her bloodshot eyes swim in her skull and her nose is swollen and red. I look down from the decay that is her face and find what could best be described as some sort of wombat asleep in her armpit. She has more hair in her pits than I ever had on my face during my Beard Years.

I mumble something about doing my laundry and not having any real money beyond the quarters in my pocket. I give her fifty cents and say I'm sorry.

Her wrinkle-infested and bony fingers close slowly around the two coins, and as they close so do her eyes. The skin around her face relaxes, her mouth hangs slightly open. It is as if she has suddenly passed away in a very peaceful and painless way. Looking at her, this peacefulness flows over me, and I am no longer angry or upset by my present situation. I am at peace with the world, and am ready to accept anything it throws at me with calm resolve. I am a zen budhist monk, tending my flowers. I am meditatively sculpting bonzai trees and dragging a wooden rake through my sand garden.

“God...”

“Damned...”

“Fucking...”

“Dog!”

Just as quickly as the peace had set in, it was over. The woman was on her feet, full of fury, fists raging (one still clutching my quarters) and spouting vile as she shuffled to the door.

I place my foot back on the posessed washing machine.

Copyright © 2004 Sam Hart, All Rights Reserved

2004-09-10T13:37:49