I realize this may be getting redundant, but honestly I do not understand what is going on with me and the laundromat lately.
I got a whole lot of nothing done today because yesterday was a doctor day and I was whipped today. But this afternoon I finally had to DO something productive so I decided late afternoon on a Friday might be a good time to get a load of laundry in... plus it's down the block from the pharmacy where I had to pick up a new prescription (and it had better help!).
So okay the place is in fact EMPTY. HURRAH! Not entirely empty, but I consider less than 3 people in the place empty. So in go the sheets, I go get the scrip, I come back and once again the dryer becomes a source of cheap theater. WHAT IS THIS???
Yes folks, once again my very boring laundry - seriously, we're talking sheets here. SHEETS for crying out loud - is the most exciting thing happening on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. There's nobody in the place, right? There's no reason to be on top of each other, right? Someone please tell me why then the one other customer in the place needed to stand DIRECTLY in front of me and stare as I put my stuff in the dryer. Why has my laundry become so much the new thing? It's seriously strange - I'm not making this up. It's w-e-i-r-d!
It is not like I'm new to laundromats. I'm sooo not. I have WORKED in laundromats! Seriously, a B.A. in theater, it's a money-maker. No lie.
So it's not like I haven't seen a lot of unusual human behavior in the vicinity of soap and fabric. But never, in all the time I've spent in laundromats, whether working and doing other people's laundry or doing my own, have I encountered this brazen checking out of the laundry that has happened to me the last 3 times in a row.
Did I miss something in the New Yorker? Is this a trend? Is it some New Age way of determining personality-type? Or are people really so bored, and oblivious? Probably the last one, huh?
I find it really amazing that these laundry-voyeurs don't seem to think they are in any way invading either my space (which they ARE) or my privacy (which they ARE). I wonder if they are so hypnotized by the swooshing sounds of the washers and the hum and heat of the dryers that they think they are at home watching some kind of three-d, hi-def television.
All I know is I do not like it. The next person who crowds in on me and blatantly examines my laundry is going to get a Bounce (with Febreeze) fabric sheet stuffed in their mouth... along with my fist.
I know, not charitable... but I'm getting seriously annoyed!!