twizzlers

She bent over to pick up the laundry that fell to the floor when she pulled a sheet out of the dryer. I watched. Was it wrong when I was disappointed when she bent at the knees instead of at a sharp angle?

“She’s no stripper,” I thought. Although her white pants, just a bit too tight, said otherwise. I stared at her. Mesmerized even. She saw me. Didn’t seem to care. After closer inspection, I’d guess she was pushing 45. Wonder if the kiddie socks are her kids’ or grandkids’? This made me lose interest.

I start to wonder if it is possible to meet someone at a Laundromat? I seriously doubt it. Maybe at 23. Not at 39.

I settle back into actually doing laundry. Put the whites with the whites and all that.

One of the dryers I’ve picked to put my clothes in has a faulty clock on it. I started it at the same time as the one next to it, yet it has 7 minutes left, the other has 5. I wonder if any one else notices such things? The last time I was here, one of the washing machines took almost double the amount of time to go through the cycle than it was supposed to. I guess that’s affecting profit margins. At least on one machine?

Today, my last day off before another fascinating five-day shift of boredom and trite conversations with people I don’t really like, I’ve decided to go to random places and see if I can meet someone. Anyone really.

The Laundromat lady didn’t seem like my cup of tea. I made eye contact and all that. Even brushed by her to get some water from the drinking fountain. I shudder to think what disease I may have caught from it…

But, I made no headway. Of course, I could have just say “Hello” and seen what happened next, but that seems too easy.

I finish my laundry and go home.

The wind is howling about 45 miles per hour and the smell is quite nice. Spring is definitely in the air, as well as lots of salt water. It’s quite an awesome thing to have the salty taste and smell just everywhere. It’s been gone for quite some time. I guess that’s normal for the beach. The winds and humidity and warmth go away for the winter and it seems all of the sudden it’s come back.

A woman is sitting in her SUV in the parking lot across from my house. I decide I’m going to watch her. She just sits there, staring into space, when all of the sudden…she answers her cell phone. Taking the initiative, I walk over to the parking lot and sit on the fence. This, most likely, will creep her out. Unless we are kindred spirits and she is intrigued. I watch to see what happens.

She notices me. Talks in the phone some more.

I stay put. Just idly watching.

She starts the car, still talking on the phone. And…she drives away. I see a little look at me when she drives by. Better than nothing I suppose.

Next, I go back on the road. To…the dollar store. Mundane as it gets, I guess.

Inside, the place is full of folk. Most are buying balloons and cards and candy. Sigh. It’s interesting. An old black woman is there, she’s looking at $1 Mardi Gras masks. I make eye contact. Say “Hello.” She smiles and says “Hello” back at me.

Conversation over. She goes back to her mask looking. I go back to looking for a tape measure. I figure I can measure my posters to get the right frames for once.

A fat guy with a beard is paying for his stuff. I look at him and see Newman. Well, Newman from “Jurassic Park.” I watch him. He seems happy. And a couple of seconds later, I understand why. “They have Twizzlers!” a perky, black-haired woman shrieks and comes up to him. She stops half an inch from his gut and gives him a big hug. She’s at the most 24 years old. He’s 35-40. Good for him. At least those Twizzlers will have some fun tonight too.

I leave the dollar store. Don’t really want to clash with humanity anymore.

Instead, I pull into my driveway and go inside my house. I put in “A Prayer for the Dying” and pull up my old quilt -- still has never been washed -- and fall into my stupid coma for an hour and a half or so.