Musings from the Laundromat: Little Basket, Blue Ticket and Panty Lines
The ground is wet outside from a recent storm that passed through our thirsty desert – the sky is clear, birds are singing – and I’m sat in an almost empty laundromat at a table that is always my 3rd choice to perch at.
There is a couple at the ‘umbrella table’. I regarded them as I stuffed two washing machines to their capacity. (I was stuffing mostly because I was too lazy to stop half way through and go back to the ‘Value Transfer Machine’ and add more money to my laundry card.) As I was doing this, another couple came in the back door.
“Still here huh?”
“Yeah” said the umbrella table couple.
I wanted to interject some sarcasm – but kept my head down and stuffed. Why do we do that? Confirm that people right in front of us are, in fact, actually there? Or ask acquaintances that we see in a grocery store or a bank “Hi! What are you doing here?”
I noticed this little tiny laundry basket unattended when I first sat down.
Can you see it? Barely? That’s how little it is. I sat and wondered, while typing, who the owner of the basket was and how much laundry could possibly fit in it to warrant a trip here.
I mean seriously, compare the hangers to the basket and probably, what, only 5 shirts?
Mystery was solved for me.
There are now bags on the folding table as the owner of the little tiny basket returned.
That’s more than 5 shirts.
The basket was a red herring.
He’s back outside in his car now – not before bending over at the dryers and giving me an eyefull that made a very clear point that Mr. Little Basket needs a belt.
Time to check my washing machines.
They were finished. And I ended up making that trip to the ‘Value Transfer Machine’ after I also stuffed the driers and realized they would need more time to successfully dry my stuffings.
Why do I have so much laundry today?? Nic must have worn every pair of jeans, shorts and t-shirts he owned last week. OR (and this is probably closer to the truth) I’ve just washed clean clothes that somehow returned to his hamper.
I found these in his pockets – another mystery!
The receipt is for Carls Jr. – no mystery there – but the ticket! Hmmm … wonder when he got that. Is there a prize on the line? Or did it grant him access to a meal somewhere. And if it is food related, why is he going to Carls Jr. and blue ticket places without me?
Okay, since I’ve shared about other’s laundry, I’ll tell you a funny story about me.
Yesterday I was getting dressed while half awake – and as I was walking from the closet to my master bathroom, I noticed something in the mirror.
You know I’ve been working out, and I’m actually seeing results. There are muscles on my belly where no muscles have been before. It’s really quite exciting.
So I’m walking – and noticing – and my eyes widen and I think “Oh! That is a LOT of definition!’
I got closer to the mirror and felt like a complete idiot.
Here is a photo of what I saw (only much blurrier in reality)
It was the string of my underwear.
Hey! From across the room it looked an awful lot like that ‘V’ I see on muscle-y people going from their hips on down!
I laughed pretty hard at that before I took the photo.
Time to wrap this up and do the ‘Drier Dance’. This is when I snatch dry items out, while leaving the damp items in to continue on their tumble, and shuffle back and forth to the folding tables.
Oh! Thought you’d like to see how capable ‘Little Basket’ was of holding things.
This looks like a complete set of bedding!
Morals of today’s musings:
Never judge a man by the size of his laundry basket
If someone is right in front of you, they’re probably there
Underwear is not a muscle.
Posted on March 2, 2014, in Humor, Musings from the laundromat, Uncategorized and tagged asking the obvious, humor, laundry basket, muscles, musings from the laundromat, people watching, umbrella table, underwear, Value Transfer Machine, washing machines. Bookmark the permalink. 5 Comments.