Sitting at the Laundry Mat

There  really is little to love about your typical laundry mat.  For starters, the smell can be a bit of a turn-off.  Then there’s the dirty  bathroom, ghettofied with a makeshift lock on the door fashioned from some wire and a screw driver.  Not to mention the way, in some municipalities, that some people judge those who use the laundry mat as a place to hook up with drug dealers and the shady.

Me, on the other hand, I love the fucking place.  Give me a handful of quarters, a Sierra Mist, 2 baskets of filthy drawers and don’t expect to see me for 3 hours or until I need a snack, whichever comes first. 

The churning of washing clothes is enough to lull me to sleep…

All laundry mats serve the same purpose yet, not all are created equal.  Some are nice enough to offer Wi-Fi or offer an over-priced bar to serve, usually, cans of beer.  Or, like the one in which I am currently sitting, some may be open 24 hours a day, allowing the riff-raff to come in and clean clothes at their convenience.

I believe laundry mat etiquette is as follows:  Never, under ANY circumstance, look at a person or what they are washing.  If you do, you may find yourself elbow deep in a mafia cover-up, or worse yet, you may attract some of the homosexuals who frequent the place.

Example:  Two Hispanics walk into a laundry mat, no, this is not a joke.  Both men are wearing high end, expensive, top of the line clothing.  Yet, they are obviously washing aprons from the Mexican dive down the street.  Everything seems peaceful.  Then you hear the one Mexican gasp…then giggle… as the other pinches him firmly on the ass.  “Oui!”

I love this place.