Laundry Day
October 10, 2008
"Ah I cant do t'day. T'morrow."
The man at the laundromat is short with a broad face and broad features. His black hair is shiny and thinning, just barely. I set my laundry bag down on the floor. I've never learned this guys name, which is fine, because he always forgets mine. I think he's Vietnamese, although if I'm wrong that's probably an insult or something.
"That's fine. I'll come by tomorrow." I look casually out the windows, caged in with thick iron bars. The launderer is wearing a white apron, and standing at a long card table folding white towels. He limps just perceptibly when he walks. There are stacks and stacks of towels on the table.
"I cant do t'day. Deez towels keeling me. All day, towels." He speaks with a charming severity, smiling and shaking his head the whole time.
"I can come by tomorrow, it's fine. Are those from a hotel or something?"
"Notel. Music. De music? Yu no, de blueberds?"
"No I don't know. Music?"
"Blue-birds." He annunciates, pushing the vowels out between his teeth, still smiling, and still folding.
"I don't understand."
"De blueberds. Dance? Music?" He wipes his little hands on his apron and starts towards me at the counter. The laundromat is empty except for one other patron. There are little puddles of water on the ground here and there, and plastic chairs. One of the chairs is missing a leg. The hours of operation on the door are posted with stickers, some are different colors and sizes than others. Some are upside down. I don't really know what his hours are.
"Music? Oh! The dance school. The dance school?"
"Yesyes. De blueberds, deez towels all day keeling me." He grabs my laundry bag and sets it into a scale with a metal basket mounted on it.
"Yu wan t'day?"
"That would be nice, but tomorrow is fine. I can come by tomorrow."
"Fife terty, t'day. Yu come fife terty?" He pulls the bag off the scale and sets it back on the counter.
"That would be great, thanks."
"Fife 'o clok. Yu come fife clok I finish. Fif-teen dolla."
"Awesome. Thanks, I'll see u at five."
Tags for this piece: denver laundry boring