The Laundry ... I'll Worry About That Tomorrow

Ring… ring… ring … “Hello,” I said with a happy lilt.

“Hi there Mindy, Amo here. Are you ready for the auction?”

For once I did something right; I did my laundry three days ago. My favorite jeans, my dark blue skinny jeans, are clean and pressed. I settled on a skin tight black body suit with a ballerina neckline and long sleeves. My D.K. Gold jacket will add some pizzazz. It’s comfortable and a perfect frame for my turquoise necklace. It’s cream colored with squares of gray and black and tan. It’s old, but it’s a classic. I got it at Goodwill years ago. As the saying goes, I have champagne taste and a beer budget.

Amo is a bargain shopper too but for a different reason. Treasure Chest, the shop he owns, has a wide selection of unique and exotic items, but he’s always looking for the lowest prices. He has an old wringer-washer for sale, just like the one we had when I was a kid. My job was taking the clothes from the big tub and putting them through the ringer. He had a great selection of figurines and china too. 

Amo and I chatted about so many things. He likes to collect rare, antique books. He thinks they carry the spirits of people who owned them in the past. I talked about my teapots and elephants, MY favorite things to collect. To me they represent luck and life, but the elephants must have their trunks up.

Amo asked, “Mindy do you like auctions.”

“Yes,” I replied, “but I’ve never bid on anything. Can you teach me how to do that?” He rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling and cocked his head just a little to the right. There was a twinkle in his eye and a calculating, hummmmmm. He replied, “Of course I can.”

I browsed for a bit longer, then I selected a small bamboo elephant. The bell above the door chimed and a slight breeze blew my hair to one side. Another customer was coming in as I was leaving. Amo greeted her with a kiss and put his arm around her waist, but he looked over his shoulder and said, “I’ll call you about the auction.” I looked back at him and said with an attitude, “Yeah, only if you’re not otherwise occupied.” Amo turned his head away from the other woman and said in a commanding tone, “I’ll call you.”

I’m sure it was just his way of being nice to a new customer. Or maybe he wants ME to bid on things for HIS shop. He probably treats all the ladies this way. He’s very good looking and seems so sure of himself. I learned a long time ago, some men are long on experience and short on memory.

My shopping for that day was done.

When I got home I realized my laundry was almost as high as my bedroom chest, which was almost as tall as me. I thought, Oh he’ll never call … then my mind just drifted like a leaf in the breeze. I snapped myself back to reality. I had a talk with myself. It doesn’t matter if he calls, you still need to do the laundry.

The next morning I began the drudgery of sorting, spotting, washing and drying my clothes. I don’t go many places, but I like to change clothes at least once a day. Four or five loads of laundry every week. As much as I hate ironing, I do that too. You know … neat, crisp, fresh. 

I worked full time when I was younger. On one job I got called down because I had wrinkles in my skirt. I think they were part of the fabric because I could not iron them out, but that didn’t matter. I shook my head as I remembered; it’s not a perfect world. I’m not a perfect person.

 I try not to dwell on the bad, but leaving that job was the worst thing that could have happened to me. It was such bad timing. But I knew when my boss left it wouldn’t be long. When the GM of a TV station changes the newcomer usually bring in new people for certain positions

Back to the here and now, and the laundry.

I made the task easier by investing in a three-bin rolling cart. Lights, delicates, darks, towels. Between the cart and my little hamper it only takes two trips to get my dirty clothes from the bedroom to the laundry room.

I thought about my apartment days, when I used to go to the Laundromat. Despite people boasting of meeting the love of their life there, my encounters were always on the seamy side. One man liked to fondle my underwear. I asked him not to, but he couldn’t help himself. It was a compulsion. I left as quickly as I could and made sure he wasn’t there when I came back. At one laundry people stole my clothes from the dryer. For me going to the Laundromat was really stressful.

One of the wash-a-terias I went to was next to a group meeting house AND a library. I never knew who would be there. Not everyone came to do the laundry. Some visitors just came to people watch on their lunch hour.

I ventured into the group meeting house a few times. Some of those people called their meeting place the “laundry.” Believe me, it would take more than a washer and dryer to get some of those people clean. I went to those meetings because the counseling group my doctor suggested would not accept me.  Doing to the “laundry” put me in grave danger.

I realized after a few months that I was not like THOSE people in THOSE rooms. I hated alcohol. It made me sick and I didn’t want to drink. Those people loved alcohol even though it made them sick. They would drink and drink and drink, but never worry about the results.

I chuckled at this point and thought ... How can doing the laundry remind me of all these things?

I was really naive when I was in there. I trusted some of THOSE people in THOSE rooms. For the past few years I’d been stalked. I was afraid to drive home at night. One of THOSE men volunteered to follow me back to my apartment. He carried my groceries upstairs. It took two trips, however, and he made the last trip by himself. After the “volunteer” returned with the second load of grocery bags, he seemed different. I wondered if he was the same person I talked to earlier. His eyes had a wild look, a red tint. Then he picked-up a loaded revolver I had in the house. At that point it seemed to me that saying “no” was not a safe option.

I think the “volunteer” really wanted a picture of a man I met in Bermuda, but that was long before the “grocery boy” visited my apartment. I spent a day with a guy in Hamilton thirteen years ago and I don’t even remember his name. We went swimming and sightseeing, then had dinner at a very elegant restaurant. A wonderful time. We were supposed to meet the next night too, but he never showed. I went for a carriage ride by myself.

I don’t know who the “volunteer” was and I really don’t wanna know. I’m certainly NOT carrying a torch for him.

Next, I got calls about being in porno movies and selling drugs. Then the family confrontation. I went to the hospital to make sure I was OK, but I was never arrested. They filed false charges against me and I had to go through a jury trial. I was found not guilty, WHICH WAS THE RIGHT VERDICT, but vindication is not the same as never having been accused.

Buzzzzzzz … End of Cycle. 

It brought me back to reality. Five times I would repeat the process. Empty the dryer, clean the lint filter and move the clothes from the washer to the dryer. Next, load more clothes into the washer and pray the button doesn’t stick. I really wish they would just put switches on these machines. Switches work better than buttons.

The laundry is a two day process for me. Wash, dry, fold, iron. Some clothes go on hangers, others get folded and put in drawers. I don’t know how many people would admit to this, or how many people even do it. I iron my towels and wash cloths if they’re wrinkled. I don’t usually iron bed sheets, but I do iron pillow cases. At least they’re un-rumpled for one day.

As I was folding clothes, Amo crossed my mind. 

I wondered if he would really call.

I wondered about his intentions. Business or romance?

 He looked very interested in that “lady” who came in after me. Going to the auction … Would it be like the carriage ride in Bermuda? Me, all by myself?

That’s how most of my life had been, doing things all by myself. Going alone was better than staying home, but I got picked on when I went out, People I don’t even know would be so rude to me for no reason. And some of the men who came onto me got a little crude. After a while I gave up, I just stayed home.

I’ve been looking for work too, ‘cause I’m not rich like some think I am. People claim they paid me for this or for that, but I wonder if the “volunteer” started using my name after he visited my apartment. I’m certain he had a motive and it was NOT to keep me safe. Maybe he got paid because people thought he was me. Whatever the case, I haven’t seen him since then.

That was years ago. I’ve washed a lot of dirty clothes in three decades. I only stayed in the “laundry” meetings for a few years. Some people didn’t come out alive. A gal younger than me was dead before I quit attending. We both worked for the same company at one time. Shortly after I learned of her death, I quit going to the “soul washer.”

Getting the laundry done always makes me feel better. The new machines get clothes a lot cleaner than the old ones. Ironing is easier too; most of the fabrics are wrinkle resistant now. My ironing time is half what it used to be.

I’m finally getting back into some of my OLD clothes, my SKINNY clothes. Twenty pounds lighter with just a few more to go. Right now I feel good about myself. I don’t know how many calories I burn when I do the laundry, but if nothing else it takes a weight off my mind.

After two days of household chores, I propped my feet up for a rest. The smile on Amo’s face crossed my mind again. Then came the image of that woman. Why would he ask me to the auction with someone like her around? She was so well dressed and so worldly looking. But still he asked me to go to the auction. If he calls, maybe I should tell him I have the flu. Or maybe I should say I didn’t hear the phone. I can’t compete with someone like her. 

Maybe I’m reading too much into this. Maybe I should quit thinking and be surprised. Maybe I should just be grateful I got the laundry done. Now I’m ready for anything. Well, almost anything. I guess I’ll just worry about him tomorrow.

Ring, ring, ring ... my "Hello" floated through the air like a butterfly.

“Hi, Mindy it’s Amo, how ‘bout dinner tonight?”

“In place of the auction tomorrow?"

“No, we’ll do the auction too, but there’s this great place to eat on the edge of town. It’s called the Wild Teapot. …

Mindy chuckled, “Let me guess Amo, it’s decorated with elephants and teapots, right?

“Yes, that’s right, along with lions and tigers and jaguars and grapevines. Me Tarzan, you Jane, we go eat!”