Colored Laundry, Colored Laundromat

April 22, 2013

The dark green leaves of the ivy contrast pleasantly with the bright green walls of the laundromat. I sit in the colorful chairs and write whimsical things.


The man with the headphones calls out to me. I remove my earplugs. “You should move your laundry to the dryer. Sometimes, people take your laundry.”

“Why would they do that!?”

“I mean, they come back the next morning to bring it back. They don’t even realize it’s not theirs.”

“Oh,” I say.

“Just lookin’ out, you know?”

“Yeah. Thanks,” I say.

Laundry in dryer, and my roommate texts me. “Din ready.”

I ask the man with the headphones what time he closes. A long conversation ensues.

It turns out, he doesn’t let people out of the laundromat after eight. Who wants to be held hostage in a laundromat, colorful though it may be?

In the end, I write down my phone number on his notebook, and he promises to call me before he leaves. I tell him I need those sheets I have in the dryer to sleep on tonight.

Delicious stir fry. Game of thrones on the TV. I leave the house when someone on the screen iss having a stick stabbed into his foot.

The laundromat doors are locked, but he lets me in when I knock on the window. I collect my things and ask his name.


“Ronaldo”, he says, making the “a” sound flat.

“I’m Sarah. Nice to meet you.”

“You must be new to the neighborhood.”

“Yep. I just moved right there across the street.”

“Well, I’ll be seeing you around then.”

“For sure. You have a good night, Ronaldo.”

“Bye now.”


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