I only went to the laundromat because my dryer broke. I expected to lose an hour and a few dollars. Instead, a stranger pulled my wet clothes out of a machine, offered me cash to keep quiet about it, and then someone walked through the door who changed the entire situation.
At seventy-five, I thought I’d encountered every kind of rude person imaginable.
Then my dryer broke.
I loaded the first basket, then walked across the room to grab the second.
It happened on a Saturday, which meant the laundromat a few blocks from my house was packed.
Rather than haul two baskets of soaking clothes from home, I took the whole week’s laundry with me and washed everything there.
Both of my loads had finished washing, and I stood there with two baskets of wet clothes, waiting for a dryer to open.
Finally, one did.
When I turned around, a woman was pulling my wet clothes out.
I loaded the first basket, then walked across the room to grab the second.
I was gone maybe thirty seconds.
When I turned around, a woman was pulling my wet clothes out.
“Excuse me! What are you doing?”
“Taking the dryer.”
She shrugged and pulled a red dress from a garment bag.
I stared at her.
“You watched me load it.”
She shrugged and pulled a red dress from a garment bag.
“Then you shouldn’t have walked away.”
The woman looked to be in her late forties. Well dressed, expensive purse, hair carefully done.
My clean clothes were piled in a dirty plastic cart beside her. One of my blouses had slipped onto the floor.
I picked it up.
“Those were clean.”
“Oh, please. Just wash them again.”
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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