Lost in Laundry




I find that i am a creature of habit lately. It wasn’t always the case. I used to let everything fall where it may and never really cared but for some reason this summer I feel like I need to start pulling my life together which includes doing laundry here in town instead of wearing everything I own until i can get back to my house in my home town and do it there. I am being truthful when I say that I wore EVERYTHING I owned. I would wear sweaters at like 65 and 70 degrees. I even ran out of normal shirts so I had to wear undershirts which were nowhere near worthy of public view, so I had to make due with wearing a large hoodie over my way too small, surprisingly stained “night” shirts. Ya know, the ones you don’t care if you fall asleep in or if you get ketchup (catsup?) on them. Yeah, those ones.


I digress. Back to the action: So, the other night I had literally worn out my clothing resources (pun for SURE intended) and at around 11pm I decided I should go do laundry at a 24 hour coin laundry. I was actually really tired too (finals can kiss my tide stick), so it made it especially to be in that in between stage of sleep and awake. So, I arrive and bring in not one, not two, but THREE huge tubs full of clothes. At this point I am alone. I had my Ipod with me so I began to sing “Poison” by BBD while I put my clothes away. I love listening to music while doing the mundane things that we do. Like walking through the quad at my university. It may seem pretty and green to others but when you are listening to “In The Waiting Line” by Zero7, it’s ethereal and while you do laundry “poison” makes me dance and throw my clothes into the washers like I was shooting three-pointers. I then realize I am completely out of quarters and that I have no $1-$5-$10 as the machine reads. Luckily there is a diner next door! So I turn to go get change and I come to the abrupt conclusion that i was not alone at all. there was a man sitting near the window, giving me a look that said one of two things:

1) He was scared that I was deranged


2) He thought I was mentally deficient. I believe this is the case. I mean, I was wearing a russian fuzzy cap, an old tattered us polo assn shirt that was wayyy to big, pajama pants, socks and sandals. Not the kind of look you go for when you want to be taken seriously.


So, Time progresses. I get the money, come back, avoid the gentleman who thinks i am insane and try to stay awake. I talk about having insomnia frequently in my other blog but this was the opposite. it was like I was trying to battle narcolepsy. It had been a long time since I felt like that.

With the power of BBD I had managed to coordinated the washers to go off in sequence in close succession and I took them out and put them in the dryer. I looked around and saw, to my surprise, that my biggest fan was gone and I was alone. There is something I find creepy about being alone in a laundromat at 1240 in the morning. I felt like a fish in a fishbowl, just looking out of the long windows and into the darkness. Hampered by the extreme fluorescent lights overhead, it seemed like there was nothingness beyond the pavement outside the glass window. 

I roam, I am a roamer, have always been. It’s terrible when I go to a persons house I have never been to because I get great anxiety.  I want to explore their house but I can’t because it would violate social norms! BUT! in a laundromat, no big deal…SCORE! I look for quarters in the washers and driers and, eventually, I found a huge basket of stuff that people had left before. It was actually really gross. Little baby socks mingled with old underwear and shirts wrinkled and stiff from never being dried overlapped clothes that belonged to hollister, at least that is what the front of the shirts said (MESSAGE!)

Then I come to an old school Galaga arcade machine. If you are younger than 20 you probably have no clue what that is but trust me, its a BFD….I think you know what that means. I put in quarter affter quarter as I play the game, trying to get the best score but I come to the harsh reality that I suck at Galaga, like, hardcore suck, like after four dollars worth of game I wasn’t even registering on the top charts…..that bad. So, I cry out in anger and go sit in front of the dryer. It is then that I begin to feel that sleep, that had been heading for me for hours, hitting me like a freight train. I shake my head and look at the clock, it was probably 1am by then. I look ahead and, this is the point of all my ramblings, I see my clothes in front of me drying and it was hypnotic. I had never seen anything like it! My clothes mixed in a flowing mass together in this front loaded dryer. It spun around and around and I was so enamored with it! I began to think about the world and everything in it. I thought about my life and what I had done right and wrong. I thought about the man I was, who I wanted to become and who i would turn out to be. Then it was like I had no thought at all, beautiful, eerie silence in my mind. It was just a vacant me and that beautiful swirl of blues, reds, blacks, greens, plums and khaki (but only one pair of pants of khaki. Don’t judge, it’s only one. I’m not a high school physics teacher for crying out loud!)

Then I was startled back to reality by the buzzing of all of my dryers going off at once. I looked around and saw that I was not alone. There was a cleaning man there mopping all around me. I guess he couldn’t wait to get the place cleaned so, why not mop me up with it? I mean I was having an out of body experience. I awkwardly get my clothes out and it takes me an absurd amount of time to hang and fold my clothes. I finally leave and on my way out the man speaks to me.

“You are a live,” he says.

I laugh, embarrassed.

The old man raised his grey-haired eyebrow in a questioning manner as he saw the heaps of clothes I was carrying out. I believe, somehow, they multiplied because I don’t remember bringing that much in…

“So, are you lazy or do you just really like doing laundry at 2am”

“Probably both I guess”

He laughs and holds the door for me as I get my last bucket. I freaked out afterwards, though. The realization that I had been staring at my laundry for ALMOST AN HOUR sat in. Now, I go tuesdays, during the day, and always bring a book. This way, it’s a bit harder to get lost.



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