Day 16

Spin Cycle

You never know how much you need a washer and dryer until you don’t have one. I had it easy early on. I either used my parents or the dorms. But when I finally moved out on my own, the damn apartment didn’t have a washroom. I had to pick and choose what to wear and when. But being a guy, I had an advantage. I’d turn the shirt inside out and bam, good as new. Boxers worked that way too.

But as the month would pass, going to work in the same shirt would eventually stink and people would notice. That meant throwing everything in a trash bag, hauling it into the car, and driving down the street.

Some days it’s empty and most days it’s packed. And depending on what days, depends on who you fought a machine for. There’s the moms with the three plus kids running around. The bachelors (like moi) doing our overdue clothes. You have the family doing EVERY piece of clothing they own. And every so often, you have the single hottie washing what little she owns. She is a very rare breed. She is not to be mixed up with the single, not so hottie.

And let’s not forget the regulars.

There’s Robert. The only clothes he washes are blue. Everything, even down to his underwear, is a shade of blue. I have never seen do any other color, not even plain old whites. Funny thing is, he wears red on laundry day. Can’t miss him.

“Hey, Paston,” Robert waved from his machine.

I waved back as I emptied my basket into the machine. I glanced up and noticed Gloria at the Tetris machine. She’s always there and the only thing she washes are her “delicates.” By the way, she sucks at that game.

Then there’s Phylis. She wears the craziest outfits. For real man. She wore a dress, no joke, with heels. Who wears that doing laundry? Another time, she wore this long, 70s jean dress, yeah, with matching platform shoes. And speak of the devil, there she is. Looks like she’s wearing a long, black skirt with some boots and a jacket. It’s freaking hot in here and outside!

I just wish the rare hottie would walk in, set up next to my machine, and boom! Have a great night of sex. Christ knows my boy is aching.

Instead I get Phylis.

“Evening, Paston.” She says, placing her basket next to my machine.

“Yo.”

“Another late night run?”

“Yeah, hoping it would be empty.”

“Sad, sad, expectations bringing you down.”

“Like life.”

“Very much like life.” She loaded in t-shirts and jeans.

“Tell me something,” I started to blurt out, but stopped myself from turning into an ass. “but uh...”

“But?” She continued to load the machine.

“Nevermind.”

“My clothes?” She asked.

“What about them,” Shit, I needed to think of something. “They’re, uh, nice.”

“You were going to ask about them.”

“Was not.”

She looked at me as she pulled a few g-strings and thong panties out of her basket. “Why don’t you ask me over to dinner sometime?”