Observations: Tales from the Laundromat

For a brief period, I didn't have a working dryer.  Because of budgeting and aggressively trying to catch up on debts, I didn't have enough money to immediately replace it.  This meant trips to the laundromat, and lots of blog fodder.

Laundromats are always awkward, especially for guys.  When I'm home, I usually do laundry at the last minute, meaning I'm wandering around the house in boxer-briefs while folding clothes.

For some reason, they don't let you do that in public anymore... but you know what?  In Eastern Idaho, that's a good thing.  I don't know what's in the water, but there are 25 ugly people in this town for every one "7" or above...

To avoid the crowds, I went at 8am on a Saturday.  I painfully put a $20 in the change machine, and started to do my thing.

At the time, there was only one family in the laundromat with me:  A mother and her two teenage daughters.  The trio were a sight to behold.  Mom was in thin workout pants that showed off her gigantic striped granny panties underneath, and the daughters weren't any better.

Mom would constantly yell to them about this and that, then run to the truck for a smoke.  When mom was away, the girls would play...

Dem shoes...

They would race in carts, or sit on top of washers during the spin cycle ("this unbalanced load feels gooooooooood....")

I snapped a few pictures, but sadly wasn't paying attention when the cart tipped and one girl took a header onto the floor.

She was ok, but really embarrassed.  They were quiet the rest of the trip.

Mom, with the striped double-wide, flirted with all the male laundry-goers that walked in.  She was a scary looking beast, but the guys were too, so of course they hit it off.

Other patrons would rock in the chairs, singing incoherently to themselves.  The token 'stare-mesmerized-into-the-dryer-for-a-long-period-of-time' dude was here, as were the 'I'm-going-to-camp-out-in-front-of-the-washer-so-nobody-can-steal-my-undies' people.

And, of course, the children.  After all, this isn't a laundromat, this is a playground...  I especially loved the mom who brought in toys for their kids.  Not toys like coloring books or blocks.  I'm talking BIG WHEELS and a scooter.  The world is your obstacle course, kid, and I'm only one more thing to drive around/over...

So maybe Saturday wasn't the best day to do this...

As the place got more and more crowded, people started fighting for machines.  Luckily my clothes were all in dryers at this point, so I didn't have to play the territorial game.  As my clothes neared completion, people started arguing over who called dibs on my dryer.  As they were fighting and getting ready to pounce, I turned into an ass.

I put a few more quarters in, just to "make sure everything was dry" and to make them wait a few more minutes.

That, and so I could stare at the ugliest feet I've ever seen, to try and understand why someone would do this to themselves...

Mismatched socks, beat-up sheep slippers that looked older than me, and it didn't go with the rest of what she was wearing.  It made no sense.

Then again, it's laundry day.  Throw on your leftovers, so you can clean everything else...