To pass the time...

It's a Saturday afternoon. I'm in a laundromat. I haven't been in many laundromats; maybe three or four, if I was gonna put a number on it. The one time I remember was when our cleaning system went down back at the farm and we had no choice. The other time was on the road and necessity deemed we wash a load for the sake of the youngest, who had managed to soak through the reservoir so carefully prepared by Mom. Nevertheless, I've never been in a laundromat on my own, in a new town, with almost no money. I could remember that the machines only took quarters; that's pretty stock information. But when did it go up to 3.75 a load?! Thankfully there were some double loaders open, so I'm able to wash 2 huge blankets, 2 small ones and a couple pajama pants for $5. Now to wait for the completion of the wash cycle. I was spoiled with free laundry back home. This sucks. I've promised myself that once my bundle of soggy warmth is in the dryer, I can indulge in some aeromatic cancer. Only a few minutes now...
As little as I visit the laundromat scene, I am perpetually amused by the people there with me. The couple that just walked in, for instance; an almost middle-aged construction worker and his wife (or longtime live-in, can't tell which). She was probably termed "one-of-the-boys", smokes incessantly and was most likely a bartender at one point in her life. They take up 6 washers right off the bat; each basket is sorted accordingly: not-so-white-anymore-whites (I think Hanes' brand is most prominent), about three loads of jeans and t-shirts, and the random compilation of leftovers, followed by the heavy canvas jacket. This couple is very at ease with one another, making simple conversation. It's easy to see they compliment each other and have for years. Ha! She's laughing at a silly story he tells her, complete with sound effects. Can't help but wonder how many months have passed since he treated his greying curls to a trim and wash. She was definitely a beauty in college and still keeps up the hilites.
Then there's the loner in the corner by the windows. His jet black hair is thick, but my guess is he's 40 plus about three years. He has no magazine or crossword, but just sits there watching the mechanics of the dryer. The look on his face tells that he's not easily amused, maybe never. Oh, he's leaving, and makes a joke as he passes the single women unloading her basket of towels. I was wrong about the laughing thing. Glad to see him chuckle.
I've been working on some school assignments for the most part of my wait, using markers to color-code diagrams of bone structure. I'm convinced the mexican couple smoking in their teal mercury outside think I'm doing a color-by-number or something.
The cute college chick just came back from tanning to grab her dry laundry. The guy with her is slightly less attractive but looks like good boyfriend material. Now he's putting quarters in the electric arcade machine across for me.
I just noticed the wallpaper border surrounding the top of the room. It's a would-be pastel of an apron, button-up shirt, hand towel, day dress, socks and a pillowcase all flapping dry on a clothesline. I'm also seeing the sign on the washers: push red button before turning handle. Funny thing: the button is silver.
It's 4:30 now and I want to go home and eat. Almost done. But it's so good to write.