Category Archives: Musings from the laundromat

Musings from the Laundromat: Displaced Glaucoma Man Edition

Me: Would you be a lamb and reset the WIFI?

Laundry Lady:  I just did – I figured I’d get your coffee going first.

Me:  Awwww!

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This was not my first interaction in the less than 10 minutes I’ve been here.

First we discussed fireworks, or rather, the lack thereof from our most local casino.

I guess we were both outside when night fell, drawn out by the distant ‘POP! POP!’ sounds only to discover it was tourists on the beach and not an official display.

Then I noticed her hair.

Me: Did you dye your hair??

Laundry Lady: Yeah.

A small smile played on her lips and I was SO glad I noticed.

I shuffled away like Igor to my machine, heavy basket dictating my gait.

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Glaucoma man found me as I was filling my machines.  Actually, he came up on me whilst I was snapping a bra closed before flinging it in.

He was disturbed.  (Not about my bra)

Him: He has my machine.  (He glared over toward his usual spot.) She opened the back door first today and let him in.

I glanced over towards ‘his’ machine, and sure enough, an unfamiliar face (attached to an unfamiliar body) stood near it.

Now, I’m NOT going to knock him for this discomfort.  We all know how my weird little OCD’s send me into a tailspin when I’m stuck under the weird rainbow umbrella instead of the seats I like – or how frustrating it is to find all ‘my’ machines in use.

I get it.

We all have our little routines and rituals.

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Him:  She must know him.

He said it like it was a conspiracy.  I couldn’t help remembering her telling me “sometimes I make him wait.” and stifled a giggle.

But Laundry Lady is not cruel hearted, I decided probably she just happened to open the back door first, and was not making Glaucoma man suffer needlessly.

Me: Well, technically she doesn’t have to open until 8 – she’s sweet to do so.

Him: How is your husband?

Me: Good.  (I didn’t correct him)

He went on to talk about how Laundry Lady is grumpy.  Which is so not true.  Then shared with me that she isn’t well.

This made me sad.  I didn’t push for all the details – I figure if someone wants me to know something personal about themselves, they’ll tell me.

He shared anyway.

Him: Yeah, she has that COD.

Me: C.O.P.D?

Him: Yes.

Me: Me too

Him: You do? But you always have a smile on your face!

I wanted to tell him so does the Laundry Lady.  For me anyway.  I think she just runs out of patience with some patrons.  I mean, I wasn’t going to tell him that part.

The bottom line though, is that if you’re kind, you get kindness back.  If you smile, you receive one of those in return too.

And if you are consistent about it – you get a friendly weekly chat and a fresh pot of coffee.

Musings from the Laundromat: The Glaucoma Man Monologues

Left the house in less than 10 minutes after waking up, dragged the laundry basket into the car, noticed the temperature was already 98 degrees and it was only 7:50 a.m.

I’m tired.  So tired and disoriented that I actually had a fleeting panicky feeling that the weekend was over when I woke this morning.  Then an internal exhale of relief that it was Sunday.

A night of dream after dream, nightmare after nightmare, had me waking to glance at the clock at strange intervals.

But for once, no bags under my eyes, I think I can owe that to the humidity.  If anything, when it’s NOT a ‘dry heat’ in the desert, the moisture in the fiery Summer heat does serve as a lovely wrinkle plumper.

Reached the laundromat and after answering “Sleepy” to glaucoma man’s “How are you?”  Proceeded to literally (yes, I’m using it correctly) LITERALLY listen to at least 10 topics of monologue.

It was not a conversation.

I had been a little nervous about how our chat today might go on the heels of the Supreme Court ruling.

But no equal rights topic came up.  Thank goodness.  I wasn’t ready to debate him.

Remember?  I’m sleepy.

So I just walked by him (in time to see him folding his Y-Fronts –  that was something I could have gone the rest of my life without seeing) and grabbed a cup of coffee.

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Standing there, you get to see a little ‘behind the scenes’.  Doesn’t that press look like a sun-bed?

Anyway.

I’m caffeinated now.

Glaucoma man is gone.

And I’m still super sleepy.

It’s quiet.

Cool.

Peaceful.

And if you were here, reader, I would ask, “Is my ear bleeding?   It feels like it may be bleeding.”

Too much information – too much of a barrage of points of view.

But I’ll keep listening.

Glaucoma man needs someone to listen.

Musings from the Laundromat: Threads and Tales edition

I’m here early.  And as usual, glaucoma man was here before me.  It was just he and I and the laundry lady.

First words out of his mouth: “Oh here you are!  I was just telling her about that Bruce Jenner.”

Oh boy I thought … because I already know where he stands on a lot of topics and they are – um – antiquated points of view.

Him: I don’t know why he had to go and do that, he had a perfectly good life!

Me: Well, he felt he is a woman.

Him: He’s going to have a hard time finding high heels – he has size 13 feet!  (Hearty laugh ensues)

Me: Well, I have size 10 feet.

Him: He doesn’t even LOOK like a woman!

Me: It happens, he needed to do this to be happy.  (I sustained from using ‘she’ considering who I was talking to – pronouns were the least of my conversational concerns.)

Then I used coffee as a reason to excuse myself.

Laundry lady: Doesn’t he drive you crazy?

Me: Nah … he’s lonely.

Laundry lady: He drives ME crazy, he tells the same stories over and over again.

Me: Well, I put myself in his shoes, and know I’d want someone to listen to my same stories if I was lonely.

Laundry lady: Yeah, but he shoves past me when I am trying to open.

Me: Well, that’s not good.  You open early to accommodate people.

Laundry lady: Sometimes, if it’s just him outside … I make him wait.

I tried not to laugh.  I mean, the laundromat opens at 8 and she will open at 7:30 sometimes.  She doesn’t have to do that.  So she’s well within her rights to keep that door closed until 8 O’Clock exactly.  But I  remembered all the customers that have given her grief that I’ve witnessed, and that’s only a tiny fraction of what goes on.

The way she said “I make him wait” in a confessional stage whisper just tickled me though.

The only power she had – she used.

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Our chat was paused when a lady came up to the counter counting change and mentioning waiting for a Western Union from her daughter.  I’ve counted change more times than I care to remember, and while money is super tight right now,  I did still have a few dollar bills in my wallet.  I offered them to her.

Turned out she had enough.

I returned to my table.

Then Mr. Same Old Stories surprised me.

Him: Not a lot of men in here today, Fathers Day.  Looks like woman’s day.

(That didn’t make much sense to me, but I kept listening.)

Him: I’ve got to call my son later –

Me: Oh! Happy Father’s Day!

Him: Thanks.  He doesn’t call me.  Haven’t seen him in over six years.  His wife controls him. She’s ten years older than him.  He found himself a ‘mommy’.   His mom died when he was one.

Me: Oh!  I’m so sorry.

Him: That’s ok.  I was never really a good dad.  He doesn’t owe me anything.

And I sat there – and he walked off to fold his clothes.

And as I sat, I thought about the lives people have led.  The reasons behind their loneliness.  The need to retell the good stories.

The desire for companionship.  To have a familiar face show up and to look forward to that brief interaction.

Laundry lady confided in me too.  Turns out she lost her father seven years ago.  She flew out for the funeral, across country, only to find herself at a party disguised as a memorial – and not once was her father mentioned.

Me: Well, you made the effort.

Her: Yeah.

There was sadness in her eyes.  Regret.  And I wanted to hug her.

There are so many stories here.  SO many threads and colors and sizes.  Not just in the washing machines, but sitting beside me and in front of me.

So I’ll continue to listen.

And to muse.

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Musings from the Laundromat: OINTB, Too Chatty & Still Craving that Burger Edition.

I feel like a mini-monster.

I haven’t seen glaucoma man in weeks – due to coming late or doing laundry on different days.  He’s here, and he wanted to catch up and I just needed him to stop talking.

I started doing that ‘slowly inch away from the person shuffle’ but my hints were not received.

I adore him.   But I’m tired.  We still managed to cover everything from Jackpots to Blood Pressure to Talent – before I made it to my table.

I literally woke up after less than 6 hours of sleep  – with a raging Orange Is the New Black binge hangover.  Blurred vision, theme song repeating in my head – stumbled to the bathroom and brushed my teeth.

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If you’re a fan, I won’t put any spoilers here – but I WILL say that after an amazing Season 1, then (for me) a disappointing Season 2 – this latest Season hit it out of the park.

To my honey’s credit – he watched every single second of all 13 episodes with me.

Made sushi this weekend – and yesterday morning.

It’s VERY cheap to make!  And easy.  I taught Jim how to do it and he became quite the pro – didn’t even use a rolling mat.

 

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SO a plate full of sushi and fresh coffee and then our Netflix marathon ensued!

Our original breakfast was to be sausage and eggs …. I bought 4 garlic/onion pork sausages –  but after my last post, didn’t think that chowing down on pork was the best route to take.  ALTHOUGH … they are already in the house, and defrosted, and we can’t be wasting money or food.

Ok! Ok, I’m still craving meat.

Ug.

But I have been good.

And I’m REALLY going to try to stick to the no cow or pig diet.

I’m on the fence about chicken … and definitely still plan to eat fish.

Baby steps.

Like shuffling away from a conversation in a laundromat, I’m inching away from the meat.

Musings from the Laundromat: Loud Little Red & Quiet Pink Edition

First 15 minutes in here were jarring.

I’m literally in the shirt I slept in, hair thrown into a braid.  This after my intended replied to my “I’m tired …”  with “Yeah, you look tired.”

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Don’t you love that?

Even worse, is when someone gives you an unsolicited “You look tired.” Which, basically translates to “You look like crap today.” In Amandapedia.

Anyway, I KNEW if I didn’t just run inside the house (ok, it was more of a shuffle) – throw shorts on and tame my mane and grab the laundry, it was NOT going to get done.

So I’m still half asleep as I enter and am greeted by what sounded like a Chuckie Cheese.

Radio blaring, children playing a land version of “Marco!” “Polo!”  The assault on my tired little ears was … as I said, jarring.

Here’s one of the little ones – (I blurred her cute little face because I don’t think pictures of kids should be randomly thrown up on a stranger’s site.)

 

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Little Red Riding tu-tu.

And another tyke in the background.

And a rare sighting of my laundry lady in the back.

Then it suddenly and blessedly got very, very quiet.

Ahhhhh.

So, why am I so tired?

Well, certainly wasn’t because I scrubbed the entire house as planned yesterday.

I did something I haven’t done in YEARS.  Friday my honey and I stayed up until 5 flipping a.m.   By choice.  We had a lot of fun, but I have got to tell you, my body does not recuperate the way it used to.

I’m old now!

Well, too old for that shite anyway.

And I knew it would happen, I knew I’d only sleep for a few hours and then answer the maternal call of my tired body.   There were animals to be fed, walked – there was food to be made.  And yeah, ok, then I binge watched the Real Housewives of New York.  (Shame is washing over me just typing that.)

Then … CRASH!  I ended up sleeping away the rest of the day.

(Not before burning the roof of my mouth on a pizza that my refreshed, newly awoken honey prepared for us.)

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So here I am, clothes in dryer now.  Polystyrene coffee to my right and … new children in front of me.

But, to their credit,they’re being very well-behaved.

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Hozier is belting out ‘Take me to Church’ in the background.  And in 10 minutes, I’ll be folding and then returning to my nest.

I’ll do something constructive around the house when I get back to assuage any guilt of planning another nap later.

It IS the weekend after all.