Doing the Laundry; Shopping at WalMart

Notes from the Laundry - 13:30

I debated whether to read the latest "The New Yorker" that came in the mail today or to journal. Since I've not written in awhile, the journal won.

The laundry is uncrowded. There's a sorta interesting guy at the back using the pay phone. Shaggy brown hair covered by a cap with an insignia I can't see. Dark gray tee splattered with multi-hued paint stains. Dark gray jeans with somewhat fewer stains. He has come forward to use the bill changer and has gone back to the phone. Hmmm! Looks like he was not a customer because he's gone outside and is walking away. No, wait! He's back with a water bottle. He has a Johnny Depp look. He's filled the bottle from the sink and has left again. This time I noticed he had two rubber bands on his right wrist.

Across the street from the laundry is a bar that never seems to close. And from time to time, patrons slip over to the laundry for one reason or another. A few weeks ago, when I went out to my car, I noticed a guy with a leg cast and crutches leaning against the front of the laundry. He was in his mid-20s, with a beard of several days growth and looked slightly dazed. He asked if I were going south, and I said no. He next asked for $5, so he could call a cab. And my truthful response was that I'd spent my money in the laundry.

I'm never sure what to do about such requests. I've been conned on more than one occasion. And sometimes I even know I'm being conned. But this guy was obviously having problems. And, yes, I thought he was cute. Am I proud of my self-control, or irritated at not helping someone? I don't know. He could have been an ax murderer. "Fag's body found in dumpster. Police look for man in leg cast!" Or he could have been only a person in need.

While on the subject of laundries, I couldn't sleep a couple of nights ago, so I switched on the tv and re-discovered "My Beautiful Laundrette." My eye seldom wandered from Daniel Day Lewis as Johnny, a south London street punk. The story is more than Johnny and his Pakistani lover, Omar. It is far more about the plight of Pakistanis in the UK. There's an interesting quote by one of the characters: "Our country has been sodomized by religion."

Notes from Home - 21:30

After wrestling the laundry into the car, driving home, and lugging it inside, I had to sort, fold and hang. As always, the felines wanted to help. This consists of diving into the laundry basket and burrowing through the socks or grabbing everything when I pick it up.

My next stop was the hugh, new WalMart. It is so large that it reminds me of an airport terminal. Once I parked, I started across the drive and was almost hit by a car. I realized I'd only looked one way. Dumb! Dumb! I literally could have been killed. Later, as I was leaving I noted that some of the parking drives are two-way, and some are one-way. Hence my confusion. I will definitely have to remember not to look both directions.

One of the surprises of the store is the ethnic mix of the customers. Everytime I've visited, I've seen people who are Causcasian, African-American, Mexican-American, Asian-American, Indian-America (the subcontinent), Choctaw, and even families with the women wearing dark veils. My second or third time there, I looked down one of the aisles and saw an Indian man and his wife. He appeared very distinguished with a turban and a full white beard and wearing horn-rim glasses. She was dressed in flowing traditional garb. and looked equally prim. The were both staring at a large frying pan that he was holding up with one arm. The scene had the wry style of a drawing in "The New Yorker."

The store has self-check out lines which I've found to be very efficient. Usually the lines with clerks have 15 to 20 customers, and each cart is filled to capacity. The self-check out is fairly idiot-proof. As you scan items, a sweet female voice indicates the price. There has to be some type of timing algorithm at work in the software, for if you tarry too long, the sweet female voice takes on an edge as it reminds you to scan the next item. And if any item doesn't scan properly, a masculine voice tells you to remove it from the bag and re-scan it. There's also a constant verbal barrage about finding unusual items in the bagging area. My guess is that the scanner "thinks" you're trying to place items in a bag without scanning them.

That's enough for one eve.

PAX!