Today Gary and I went to the launderette. Not the most exciting activity I admit but as our washing machine is broken and the new one isn’t coming until next Saturday, it was essential. While I was at the launderette I thought I’d use the time, of which there was plenty(!), to do some writing. Here is what I wrote.
“The washing machine chugs and whirrs. A middle aged lady in a bright pink jumper bends over to shove her laundry in the dryer showing off her pear shaped bum in its black stretch trousers. Olive skinned young lady is also wearing pink, a short sleeved top with grey jeans rolled at the bottom and turquoise flip-flops. She wears a pony tail and glasses and looks like a student to me though strictly speaking its the wrong time of year.
There’s a clack-clack from one of the dryers as something metal, probably a zip, keeps hiting the side. The clock is behind a wire cage; it is hanging off the wall and only the presense of the wire cage stops it from falling. There is a camera but that’s no surprise. The only things on the walls are instruction notices telling you stuff like how to operate the machines and what time the lauderette closes. One of the dryers has a St. Andrew’s cross on the front, done in grey masking tape, making it look like a target.
Huge vents are lined with years of dust. The beige tiles of the linoleum are flacked with dirt and some sort of pattern, almost indistinguishable from each other. Strip lighting bleaches everything a yellowish-white. I’ve just realised I forgot to change the programme number and so I’ve done a cold wash by mistake. Its actually stopped raining and the sun is trying to come out but the clouds are still battleship-grey and pregnant with yet more rain.
Gary and I take turns to grab an armful of washing and lug it over to the big dryers at the far end. Naturally a pair of my clean knickers end up on the floor!”
And that’s my launderette piece. I have tidied it up a tiny bit but mostly, I just left it as it came out. Enjoy!