The Laundry Pigs

So I had a ton of laundry to do and I packed it all in the car and got to the laundromat and this couple is using all the big load machines. Two double loaders and three triple loaders.  Every fucking one of them. Like they hadn’t done laundry in a month and thought, “Oh let’s just make a fucking day of it!  We’ll do all OUR laundry all at once and who cares if anyone else has to do any??” So half the machines are out of order but I managed to find two single loaders and stuffed them as full as I could which was still just maybe a quarter of my laundry since I haven’t done any in three weeks. I’ve been busy.

  But I got even with them.  There was only one working change machine and it was next to the single load machines so, even though it only took me a couple of minutes to load my machines,  I waited til Mr. and Ms. Laundry Pig pulled out a 20 and began sauntering over. Then I took two quick steps to the change machine and, even though I had tens and fives,  I only used my ones!    I used the old crinkly ones, too.  I had to stick them in like 3 times before they went through.  I pulled them out one at a time and then I took the quarters, counted them and put them in my pocket.  I did this for all ten dollars, even when I heard Ms. Laundry Pig tapping her tacky heels about midway through.  Yeah, maybe next time, you’ll do your laundry more often you filthy swine!   Fucking assholes.
  Now, since my laundry will be done before theirs, I am going to hang out and then I am going to use every available dryer, even if all I have is one sock to put into some of them and it costs $35 in quarters.  Anyway, if gives me a chance to catch up with that whore, Dr. Phil.

Mirrored Monstrosity

So this mirrored monstrosity happened in the past 9 years. My friend, Merlin, and I took a sentimental journey to the lower east side last week. Depressing. Once it was the kind of place you could get a $10 bag of heroin. Now you can get a $10 thimble of artisanal soy latte. From Varick street, you have a lovely view of this erection of mirror and concrete, some Trump or Trump like tower. Trump’s idealized phallus, a gaudy middle finger to all of us, the unrich, who once infested like roaches this prime real estate.

Octavia Kraut's photo.