My dryer died last night, and I had to go to the laundrymat to dry my clothes. There are few places stranger than a laundrymat. There I was, folding my socks and underwear at a public table, under fluorescent lighting, in front of a plate glass window facing a crowded parking lot, no less; right next to a guy who was folding his socks and underwear. I’ve known this guy since we were kids, and we’re on generally friendly terms, but neither of us uttered a word the entire time. We were too busy trying not to look at each other’s underwear.
4 thoughts on “Small town, Sunday night”
That’s hilarious! Last time I went to the laundromat, a guy held the door open for me, and out dropped my underwear. Not just any old pair. The white pair. But, um, I can’t say it. Imagine it.
I about died. Right at his feet!
Oh my! It’s official. You’ve got the number one most embarrassing laundrymat experience.
Great fodder for your book. 🙂
Try folding your underwear in Hollywood next to a bunch of gorgeous actors and singers! Super embarrassing! For 6 years, I did my laundry in the mat at the bottom of the hill near the Hollywood sign in Beachwood Canyon. A lot of people become famous before they actually start rolling in the money and they still live in apartments that have no washer/dryers. Those were the days!
(Thanks for spotlighting my site on your page. You are really funny. I like the way you write.)
Too bad you didn’t swipe a pair or two of those skivvies from the gorgeous, nearly famous around you. Those’d be worth bucks right now.
Thanks for stopping by! I found you through “The Movie Fanatic.”