I grab four of the red coffee stirrers out of their clear container. Bending them halfway, I walk back over to my washer and slide them into the little slots where coins are supposed to go. Making sure they’re all secure in the slits, I push the bar in and pull it back out. My washer starts without a hitch, tumbling my clothing. It will be done in an hour. In the mean time, I’ve got to find something to do.
I take the four straws and toss them into the garbage by the door. Thankfully, today is one of the days where the sky is clear. But it’s not hot enough to wear shorts or a dress. If only; I’ve been wanting to wear a cute black dress that JR loved, but never lent out. She always said if it went to anyone, it would go to Claire. But I got it. And I just cross my fingers that it’ll look nice.
Instead, I wore my usual getup. Black jeans—ripped at the knee—my black heel-boots, and a Kooks gray and white and black t-shirt. I brought along my dark green parka, just in case it got too cold. I grab my jacket from the chair by the exit and shrug into it. The semi-warm, semi-cool air brushes back my hair from my face. I stand in front of the Laundromat for a moment before deciding to take the left on the street. I have no idea what I’m going to do.
As I continue to walk down the street, I look at the small shops along the way. Some have people in them, some are empty. I pause to look in the window of a thrift shop, debating on whether or not to go in. I purse my lips, thinking about it. Just as I’m about to make my decision, the door is pushed open and a mother and daughter walk out, hand in hand. The lady holds the door open for me. I smile politely at her. “Thank you, but I’m not going in.”
“Oh, sorry! Have a nice day!”
“You too!”
I watch as they cross the street to the ice cream pallor, pulling the door open. The girl smiles largely at her mom, jumping up and down in small bursts. I smile too. It’s good to see people happy over little things. I continue on my way down the road, running my fingers along the brick walls of the buildings. The sun reflects brightly at me from a store window. I pull my knock off Ray bans from my bag and slip them on, taking away the glare.
I sigh. Slipping out my phone from my bag, I flip it open and check the time. Time to get a new phone; I decide when the screen doesn’t turn on. I just charged it, too. Shaking my head, I tuck it back in my pocket. I don’t know how long I’ve been walking; fifteen minutes at the most, so I carry on, planning to turn back once I find the time.
As I pass by stores, I glance quickly inside, looking for a wall clock. I just need to know when I need to turn around. Another sigh, and I continue down the street until my feet hurt. It must’ve been more than thirty minutes by now, right? I turn back around and walk to the Laundromat. The stores I pass again don’t have any more people in them as they did before when I walked by earlier, if anything else, less.
I pull open the door to the Laundromat. A gust of cold wind blows back my hair from my face. Thank god; it’s easier than having to do it myself. I hastily walk over to my washing machine, checking the time. It’s still going. I groan, kicking the stupid machine.
Finally back at my house, three hours later, I toss my clothing onto my bed. I should put them away, but I don’t want to care. I spent most of my day at some dingy Laundromat, waiting for my clothing to be finished. But I do love my clothing. I needed my leather pants washed. I rely highly upon them to be clean due to my favoritism towards them.
