I hate Mondays, I suck on Mondays.
We go to the laundromat so infrequently. We prefer to save up our vast deposits of dirty clothes for a rainy day. I get bored there, I can never find an internet hook-up, no matter how long I stare at the vibrating, spinning turbulence of the tumble driers.
The one thing I do enjoy is watching the varied vagrants that frequent the mecca of quarters and detergent:
The huge bulk of the Samoan man and his tiny wife. He moved aside unapologetically, yet serenely after blocking the whole aisle.
The many Latino women spending hours each week doing the same thing, going alone to the laundromat, washing clothes for the whole extending family.
"Is that a girl or a boy?" We ask each other.
Camouflage pants -- boy. Shapeless green shirt with slight bulges -- girl. Long, dark, full hair -- girl. Silly looking hat perched haphazardly -- boy. The face? Either very pretty boy, or strong jawed girl -- no help there. The hands always tell the truth, and the hands said boy... finally!
The one person that drew most of my attention (except for the girl who seemed to be washing only tiny lace bras and thongs, I wondered about her occupation), was the man. He was ordinary, he was normal, he was average in every way except for weight, in that respect he was above average for California. Although about average for the Mid West, where I suspected he orginated from. It was an easy assumption if you looked at what he wore: turtle neck shirt under a blue button-up shirt, a black plastic jacket which I just knew he wished was leather, faded light jeans and dirty white basketball shoes. This man needed help!
He looked to be in his 50s, a single white, middle-aged man alone in a laundromat. I couldn't think of anything more lonely than that. He wore no wedding ring, the car he drove looked like the same Buick he first came to California in, maybe twenty five years before.
I began to pity him, I began to make up stories about his sad long life. He used his cell phone, I guessed to check on messages that never came. I began to wonder if things had gone differently for me, that I might have become that man. My pity for him was being fueled by the fear I have, that I might at heart be normal.
Later on my impression of him changed, I saw his laundry, all of it hospital scrubs. I altered the image of him in my mind into a brave hero, sacrificing his life and happiness to save the lives of hundreds of sick children.
My mind is a fickle thing.
There are 27 messages for this day.
|<David Byrden> Screw the webcam. It's COLD out there!|
|<Axolotl> Must....not....do...another...Brazilian wax...joke...aaargh!|
|<JulieK> Mort's captions are too funny for me to alternatiphize today. (holy Garfield is fat and lazy)|
|<yoyology> That is one of the most freakish-looking cat I've ever seen.|
|<yoyology> That should read "one of the most freakish-looking cats I've ever seen."|
|<Pedro Gonzales> I think the cat has been repeatedly punched... |
probably by guyPaolo
|<guyPaulo> f*cking cats.....they're everywhere....|
|<Pedro Gonzales> Sorry 4 the typo guyP!|
|<mypalmike> I'd give my left arm for a koala or something. That cat is uncaptionable I say!|
|<mypalmike> ... although Mort's Garfield reference worked nicely.|
|<guyPaulo> For all orchid lovers out there, yahoo's got a nice photo of an Ecuadorean specimen today:|
|<guyPaulo> What?!? Did I kill the comments here with the orchid thing? Guys can dig flowers without being homosexual...... They're great for picking up chicks....yeah that's it....bi-boobed slutty chicks....perfect for 100% hetro guys like myself......|
|<yoyology> "Bi-boobed"? Doesn't that describe most women?|
|<guyPaulo> "bi" equals "big." I was trying to type as I ate my low-carb, peta turkey-wrap and fruit salad and ......oh god, that IS gay.....|
|<yoyology> PETA? I don't think that PETA advocates eating turkey.|
Typos are fun.
|<Axolotl> Have you seen the other picture of the cat? ...tinyurl.com...|
Can't agree more with yoyo on this one!
|<guyPaulo> Peta bread, yoyo. As far as PETA goes, they frown on the torture of innocent wheat plants, and want us just to eat rocks.|
|<yoyology> If you are referring to the round, pocket-type bread, it's spelled pt-a.|
|<Mary Poppins> A spoon full of sugar makes the pita bread go down....|
|<Uncle Albert> A friend of mine went to buy some long underwear. The shopkeeper asked him, "How long do you want it?" And my friend said, "From about September to March". |
|<Mr. Dawes, Sr.> I once met a man with a wooden leg, named Smith.|
What was the name of his other leg?
|<Bert> Uncle Albert, I got a jolly joke for just such an occasion. Would you like to hear it? |
|<Mary Poppins> You look frightful, all covered in soot! Turbo-powered umbrella AWAY!|
|<yoyology> I know I say this kind of thing all the time, but I'm gonna say it again.|
If you've never read any of P.L. Travers' Mary Poppins books, I highly recommend them. I have no complaint about the film at all, but the books have a special charm of their own.
|<mypalmike> What are you, a goddamn librarian or something?|
|<David Byrden> I borrowed Mary Poppins from the school library in 1969 and I never returned it.|
Oh god! It feels so good to have that off my chest!
|<David Byrden> You must read the start of this..this kid made me laugh so hard I cried.|