August 13, 2012
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02/17/09 – Rita’s Ritin’ Challenge ~ LaundroMat
Hi Guys!
It’s week #9 of Rita’s Riting Challenge, and I’m pleased as punch to say that Rita is using a photo I sent in to her for this week’s edition. Thank you hon!! It was taken during my first visit to an American Laundromat a couple of weeks ago, and I’ve had my story waiting ever since! This is it. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.
(Click here if you fancy a go…
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LaundroMat.
The couple entered the LaundroMat and her eyes opened wide in amazement. WOW! So many machines! At least 20? 25? and whole rows of dryers along two walls. The bright fluorescent light above bounced back off the machines, the glare strong and yellow. What a difference to the local launderette she’d known ‘back home’, with its half a dozen washers and two dryers, dingy and uninviting. This one even had pinball! And vending machines for drinks and snacks! Wow. Back home you had to nip round the corner to the cafe and hope your stuff was still there when you got back!
He loaded a large, industrial sized machine with their bedding, while she piled the clothing into three smaller washers.
“How much liquid do you want in these?” she asked.
He looked over her shoulder.
“Usually, we put the detergent in first” he said.
Oops! She grinned sheepishly and rummaged through the clothing in each machine, digging a hole to the bottom into which he poured the liquid. He lined up rows of quarters into the slots on each one, and she slammed them home, setting them off and running. Twenty minutes to go! Enough time to go out and pick up groceries. Amazing that you could leave and not worry about the busy machines being left unattended!
A pair of grey flannel jog pants tumbled around forlornly, wondering where its friend, the ‘not so white right now’ dressing gown was. Oh dear. *Sigh…* she’d forgotten it. She’d be annoyed when she realised. And the pants would miss the shrieks and laughter that emitted from her when pants and gown played together, combining their release of static electricity in a shower of tiny blue sparks which crackled over her dancing legs.
Several odd socks, thoroughly soapy and sudsy, crossed paths occasionally and nodded, each hoping fervently to be reunited with its partner when they got back home. Otherwise it would be “back in the corner with you, damn odd sock!”, as she would cheerily throw them back with the other misfits. Oh the ignominy of being an Odd Sock!
A soft, pink, cable-knitted sweater luxuriated in the hot water, pleased to feel the dust and dirt being gently teased out of its fibres. Always ‘kept for best’ in another life, it was now resigned to being an ‘everyday’ object in the harsh temperatures of its new home. At least it was secure in the knowledge of still being the favourite sweater.
Two bras met mid-cycle. Straps entangling, metal hooks clawing at each other. One plain, white and practical; the other black and lacy – a bit of frippery. Who would win the battle for supremacy? They were violently flung apart during the fast spin, smashed against their respective sides of the drum. Bosom-less cups heaving, they grudgingly called a truce and decided to coexist, 50/50, as the circumstances called for.
The couple returned to find everything as it should be. Apart from them, and two women folding their laundry across the other side of the room, the LaundroMat was empty. The couple piled their clean, spun things into several dryers and set them going. She had fancied herself as a bit of a ‘pinball wizard’ way back when, and felt quite excited when money was fed into the machine and she spun off her first ball. It seemed that she had become a little rusty over the years, and he beat her score easily. She didn’t mind; she was having fun!
She took out her camera for a couple of snaps of this gargantuan place. He positioned himself protectively between her and the two women, guarding their right to privacy from the prying eyes of the lens.
The radio, quietly on in the background, selected old rock songs and gave them out almost reverently, evoking memories and singing from her. He opened a dryer to see how it was doing, and she danced over to take out the dry clothes.
“Bouncy little git” he said, fondly.
She smiled and looked at him sideways.
“Well I’ve never been called that before!” she replied, before bouncing back to the table to start folding.
♫”Swee-eet Home Ala-bama, where the skies are so blue…”♫
A pair of his beat up work jeans with ripped knees and tattered pockets breathed a sigh of relief to find itself at the bottom of the pile of folded workwear. Respite for a few days, at least! Its counterparts could bear the brunt of the daily grind instead, while it rested in the dark, quiet silence of the closet.
A pair of her jeans, thickly embroidered down one side with subtly-coloured flowers and butterflies, lay smugly on another pile, knowing that it would never be likely to suffer such hardship! They only came out for trips into town!
The big fleece blanket trapped layers of hot air into itself as the couple folded it together. They would be grateful for its comforting newly-washed softness and warmth that night, it thought, pleased with itself and its role.She set the clothes and towels and bedding into their respective piles before returning them to the plastic bags they’d been brought along in. The socks and underwear were shoved unceremoniously into a bag together – she would sort them out when they got home. The odd socks waited in anticipation, hope and worry, keeping their toes crossed; their dilemma still to be decided.
Bags were loaded back into the truck and the couple headed home. Their respective books sat together companionably on the seat, untouched and unread. Looks like they ended up only coming along for the ride…
