How Heterosexuals Bond In A Laundrymat It was insanely early on a Saturday as I stumbled into the laundry mat (well, insanely early on a Saturday for me. I don't know, maybe you're the type that have "goals" and value things like "achievement") with a pile full of vile cotton and synthetics. As per my usual routine it was all about dumping and running. Sitting around laundry mats thumbing through old copies of Time isn't really my thing (though I was recently relieved to see that we finally won the second world war). I just hang around long enough to move things from one machine to the other then I'm outta there. So it that I am pulling my clothes out of the dryer with bleary eyes and hands that would really prefer to be asleep when I hear a question come my way. "How many minutes does that dryer get for a quarter?" I turn, somewhat startled, to find the question is being directed to me from a man about my age and in all sincerity. "Uh-I think it's seven or something." I reply tentatively. I started jamming my clothes away a little quicker while acting like he had done me the greatest favor in world. Which probably wasn't a very good idea since that seemed to increase his enthusiasm about his great find. As I left he was putting quarters in various dryers in an attempt to see how much time each one would give him. Sometimes it's the little things is life I suppose.
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