It takes me weeks to get excited about doing laundry. I peer over to the laundry basket with shame - I should have done laundry weeks ago! It's one of those things in life - a psychological block if you will - that I can't explain. I think I've even blogged about it before - although not a difficult task I just hate everything about it. Was today a breakthrough?
I woke from an amazing night's sleep and peered over to the laundry basket. To my dismay, it was still exactly where it always, in the closet brimming with a few weeks of laundry. I heard the Rocky music begin playing in my head - today I will overcome! I will triumph! One of the reasons I hate doing laundry is the few and unreliable facilities at my apartment complex. I will overcome! I packed up the heavy load and waddled out the door, laundry bag bashing into the posterior and book bag hugging my back. I was on my way to triumph - the laundromat.
Pulling into the parking lot, I unload the laundry without the use of a skid loader. Apparently, these are not on hand to help with un-docking. Laundry in toe, I tootle in to greet my new community. Upon entering I hear Indian disco music playing loudly over the speakers and am welcomed by several neighborhood residents - an eclectic but extremely nice group. I spot the "jumbo washers" at the back and head confidently towards triumph - it's in site!
On my way to the back I meet Clarissa, a nice older black woman who seems to be the community's matriarch. She exudes class and sass and has garnered the respect of those there. She introduces herself and proceeds to tell me how things work there (no, she is not an employee - Rashid was the attendant on duty - thus the reason for disco laundry Saturdays at Suds n' More, emphasis on more, much more!). I am thankful for Clarissa's commentary - and eager welcome -- and finally arrive at jumbo washer #52. I am overcoming!
I am able to put in all my clothes in one washing machine - they are serious about the jumbo status - this is no joke. I put the money into the machine but nothing happened. I tap, pat, kick, tap, pat, kick - nothing! Clarissa calmly saunters over to assist - this is what matriarchs do. Apparently the door didn't close properly, or at all. Apparently shutting the machine's door required. I iswill overcome. While Clarissa uses her busty booty - a feature I can tell she is proud of by the sight of her g-string popping out of her tight jeans - to slam the door, Rashid stands and stairs at me. A bit uncomfortable, I ask Rashid if something is wrong. There wasn't. Do all new patrons get this "service?"
I strike up a conversation with Clarissa about how the dryers work. They tumble and dry, I know this much. She eyes the laundry in jumbo turbo washing machine #52 and exhorts that 0.50 cents will do. While it took 0.75, she wasn't far off. With Rashid smiling from ear to ear, and Clarissa holding down the fort -- don't forget to cue Indian rhapsody in the back -- I bring my experience, and time with my new community, to an end. A morning spent at the laundry mat almost makes doing laundry fun. Fun!?
While leaving I thank Clarissa for her assistance and Rashid for "keeping it real." I say goodbye to a couple other folks as well. I'm almost sad to leave. I am, however, relieved. I'm triumphal!
This may be the start of something good. A breakthrough?
suds n more...emphasis on more...nice.
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