I almost always get up early and when I say that, I’m talking six o’clock. On some mornings, I get up earlier and when I do, I’ll work in doing a little laundry first thing. Well, not really the first thing. I have a cup of coffee first.
Yesterday morning, I found myself getting out of bed around five so after drinking some coffee, I got some clothes together, put them in my laundry basket and went down to the laundry room.
I was putting clothes in one of the washers when the door opened up. It was a guy with his own laundry basket loaded with clothes. I’ve seen him around the building. He’s short and skinny and has white hair. He’s always friendly enough. He walked up to me quickly.
“You already put your clothes in that washer?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied, “just put my money in to get it going.”
“Damn!” he said.
“I always use that one, the third washer from the right,” he said.
Feeling a little confused, I said, “I’m sorry. This is just the one I picked out.”
“It’s OK—don’t worry about it,” he said, patting me on the back. “I’ll come back in a couple hours,”
And with that said, he left the laundry room. I looked at the row of washing machines. Yes, I was using the third washer from the right, but there were eight more, all empty.
I waited a minute or two before heading towards the elevator to get back to my apartment. I didn’t feel like risking having to ride up with the guy who had to have that one particular washing machine. Go ahead—call me peculiar.
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