I decided this morning I wanted to surprise my laundry lady with something bright and unexpected. So I stopped off at Safeway before venturing across our little highway to the laundromat.
I continued on and balanced my two baskets, my to-go coffee and the flower.
I approached the counter.
Me: These are for you – thank you for smiling every time I see you.
Her: Oh, thank you! Are you going to need coffee today?
And that was that. And I adore her.
Standing by ‘my’ (preferred) machines was cataract man. “There you are!” he said.
He revealed a secret machine that was closed. “You can use this one!”
The irony in that offer was that for once, all the machines that I covet were available. I politely declined the ‘secret’ machine and stuffed two next to it.
Then cataract man discussed his desire to perhaps ask his doctor for a marijuana prescription, as he still has uncomfortable pressure on his eyes, and in spite of multiple people who have told him to the contrary, he is certain his cataract surgery gave him glaucoma.
Him: I might put it in food
Me: Well, make sure you heat it up – you can’t just sprinkle it on a salad – has to be heated to release the THC
Him: Yeah – I definitely don’t want to smoke it.
I claimed a table and opened up my ipad.
In came some more familiar faces.
“There’s band-aid lady!” My little old man had arrived. (For those of you new to the blog, this stems from a day I watched him sitting trying to continually wipe blood from his arm – I went and got him a band-aid.)
“Hi!” I said.
(It dawns on me – for all the names I’ve given people – have I become ‘band-aid lady’??)
Then a rare sighting. Cataract man was having technical difficulties – here is laundry lady with him, helping him out.
And here is the little old man I wanted to put in my pocket. He’s so flipping small and sweet. I still get the Elmer Fudd vibe when I look at him.
This place has become a second home.
A friendly tradition. A little laundry family.
And as I put my clothes in the dryer, of course, a pair of panties fell to the floor. This morning it was the peach colored pair. And no one cared. Because by now, we’ve seen all of one another’s laundry.