All day wasn't laundry day, just a couple hours in the afternoon.
My usual laundry plans weren't working out so
I went to a laundromat to see what things were like there.
This one was old, but it was clean.
When I arrived someone I knew from around town was just leaving. We had a nice conversation out front. He wasn't there to do laundry. That was a hint about what was to come.
I packed my clothes into three machines, put in soap and coins (different slots), closed the lids and pushed start.
Selecting one of the nice orange chairs, I sat down and began reading a photography magazine. In a bit, four little girls traipsed passed. They were sisters and looked to be ages 4 -10. The youngest one spoke to me and the oldest told her not to talk to strangers. She also volunteered that they were all sisters and their mom was waiting outside in the car. They were on their way to the restroom. This was the beginning of a steady stream of people visiting the restroom, change machine, and/or coke machines. The entire time I was there I was the only person doing laundry.
I moved the clothes over to the dryer and put them on to spin.
Shortly after that, the cleaning man came. He was Cajun and a real talker. Before long I'd heard many stories from his past. He had been in prison, in a bike gang (his 1966 custom Harley was in Louisiana) , won $350,000 in a slot machine, owned a huge house and large piece of land in Texas (where he allowed people to live and provided all their food and utilities), and had a wife and child in Louisiana. There was additional adventure stories that I can't remember.
At long last the dryer stopped. I folded my clothes, all the while listening to the man talk.
As I was leaving, I asked his name. He said everyone called him Psycho Man. I thought to myself, "that fits you perfectly". I asked if I could take his picture. That shut him up. He turned and walked away. I got in the car and came home.
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