my underwear

April 22, 2006

i know this may be a provocative subject. it may offend many of you. i know this full well. however, something needs to be said.

now i get up very early in the morning on a regular basis. it's what i do. i like to be up and about before all the regular weirdos are up and about. i like to beat them to my local laundromat because this is where they hang out and inevitably engage me in weirdo conversations. i am familiar with their weirdo ways and i have come to accept it. just to give you a taste for the incredible goings-on of my laundromat...

i'm rocking to the ipod as i stuff mounds of clothes into the washer. a crumpled up lady in very loud blue eyeshadow is screaming in my direction, "miss! miss! miss!" finally i turn around. she says, "can you open this for me?" she hands me a reach toothbrush, soft bristles. weird. i open it for her and give it back to her. just then a korean storm blows in and starts yelling at this crumpled up old lady to leave her customers alone. i'm guessing she meant me.

anyway, the crumpled up old lady looks very eager to engage me in conversation but i sit one empty seat away for her, still rocking the ipod. her victim sits in between us. in all fairness, he didn't have a chance in hell. she turns to him and asks if he will read something aloud to her. she hands him her copy of j. alfred prufrock. he obliges. he is not a very good reader and stumbles a few times then halts altogether and says "i can't go on any further. there's something very provocative written in the margins."

what follows can only be described as why-do-i-come-to-this-wacked-out-laundromat-with-all-this-crazytown? the crumpled up old lady starts to tell anyone who will listen her life story. her mother was very wealthy but was hit by a bus. she is wanted in four states. she was a socialite in connecticut. she is now an alcoholic. she fancies poetry. on and on it went. once she got up to start the washer. she put her quarters in and started the cycle. there was nothing in the washer. nothing. zip. empty. after this she asked me for a dollar.

okay, having said all that, i ventured back to the laundromat very very early this morning in hopes of not running into any crazytown. i enter a completely deserted laundromat. the coast is clear. i throw in my 50lbs of wash and sit down to write a letter, which is what i do every time i go to the laundromat. i am like a writer and i write letters, real letters, that i post in the mail and send to people far away who i don't communicate with in any other fashion than through the good old-fashioned post office. you should admire me for this upholding of traditions.

i digress. a couple folks stray in, one potentially weird gentlemen but i shrug it off because i'm already on page three of my awesome letter. an hour or so later, i start the ritual folding of my clothes. i fold like i worked at the gap. it's my compulsion. i'm very tidy with corners and edges. the potential weirdo rolls up next to me. as i get through the big folding things, what's left is a big pile of my unmentionables. underwear in various colors and patterns and fabrics. yes, it's quite an attractive pile. i know this but hey, we're all adults here. go to victoria's secret if you're that interested in underwear.

he's staring at my multicolored pile of underwear. really staring at it like he's going to eat it with his eyes. this is beginning to unnerve me but i try to continue to rock to my ipod and ignore him. then of course i drop a pair of said colorful underwear on the floor and would you believe he actually dove to pick it up? well he didn't dive exactly but he did perform the bending over act. i stealthily zipped right in there and gave him the coldest shoulder imaginable.

maybe this is my fault. for bringing my very attractive underwear out in public for all to see and admire and covet. if that is in fact the case, i sincerely apologize.