It was dress-up day for laundry day, and it was going to be a very dangerous day, even though he hadn’t seen it coming until something just clicked for him. The last outfit he had sitting in his wardrobe, and it just happened to be his best clothes as well, out of place looking as though he were ready for some kind of dinner party. There was time enough for him to get the laundry done as long as he kept on the task. The day, though, seemed short as the sky darkened when clouds moved overhead. He was walking through the apartment complex distracted by this change of weather, and approaching the laundromat hurriedly. If he hadn’t had been looking at the ground occasionally, he would have certainly fallen down upon the cracked pavement with clothes soaking in muddy waters, and would have had to make a painful recovery. Today was his lucky day, though, in light of those dangers.
It was bugging him to no end, and dragging itself out thoroughly into the impending fall season, factual practical elements like he didn’t have a job when it would begin to get colder. What would he do then? How would he afford luxuries gas money, let alone any such thing as a car payment, and any kind of meal worthwhile that wasn’t affordable fast food? How could he lavish money on women and beers with his friends without a steady career direction in front of him? Without any help from nonexistent parents, and going to college full-time, his student loans might not even be able to afford the rent for the apartment. It was all stressing him to no end, indeed. Just one day at a time, he thought, the student loans were paying off still. The very idea of repayment hadn’t reared its ugly head, yet. Now was a very different mode. Laundry mode; a veritable countdown to the apocalypse of mundane humanity.
Boredom to the nth degree because he has to sit there the whole two hours it takes to meticulously wash his clothes. Nowhere to go, and no money to do it with. With his car actually being broke, and the sensation of an almost torrential rainstorm outside was just a small bonus. He laughed oddly to himself then as his sense of humor regarded the situation.
Walking through the mess was becoming a heinous experience, with the debris flooding over the sidewalk as lightning and thunder battled it out overhead, but at least the dryers and washers were close-by. The laundromat was a small coin-operated deal with a charge only fifty cents per load, and the same total for the dryers as well. Not a bad situation, but the whole one-room sits precariously between a gas station and large row of rundown and grayed out houses of a less-than-shady demeanor. Sometimes he would have felt safer near a prison than here. He had come terribly close to being beaten to a pulp at various odd occasions in his time going to school here, for architecture, though, he wasn’t quite sure why this was the way. He flinched spontaneously when he had neared the entrance the laundromat as the thunder and lightning struck at the same time a few miles too close.
Gregory couldn’t believe the luck. He could, however, believe the rain starting to get in his way. The only one favorable factor was that of the sanctuary of the launderette, and by the time his laundry would be done, the rain might stop. Nighttime, however, would have settled in, and safety would be a fairly big issue then. Running home would keep him safe from thugs, but how fast could he jog with an arms load of clothes? When he walked through the door of the laundromat, he was drenched to his disgust, and still had to wash the clothes in his tote. With a splat, the bag hit the floor, and he began heaving his clothes one by one into the machine. He was even too broke at this point to separate his laundry, and tossed in all the articles of wash, he didn’t even notice the girl who walked in. So focused, so pissed-off, that he couldn’t sense her presence.
It wasn’t until he slammed down the lid, and she stood across from him at the next machine, that he noticed anything about her. She was a few inches under his height, her pale wet skin almost glowing as she glanced at him, and placed her white skivvies with shirts and pants in the same bleached load. Her hair was red with streaks of dark shades, and as he pumped the machine with quarters, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Maybe his day wasn’t going to be too much worse after all. He looked down, and smiled to himself, as he waited. She looked at him, and they made eye contact as she sat down on the other side of the laundromat, the only two people amid the quiet rumble of washing machines. She smiled again, after awhile, but seemed a little more nervous about it. She glanced beside herself, and grabbed an outdated magazine sitting there, perusing it with delicacy.
He looked at her until that action made him rethink his attentions, and he too looked around for reading material, however finding nothing to look through. He was thinking to himself of how best to approach her, and began trying to seem as though he wasn’t thinking about that. His glances in her direction, however, betrayed his attentions to her, and she seemed to have a frozen nervous grimace on her face. He stood up to walk towards her. She stayed true to her magazine browsing, and he seemed in his own mind like the leering stranger, she probably ignored him thinking he was drooling to rape her or something. He coughed to clear his throat, and sat next to her, she seemed intent upon her task. “Hi, my name’s Drew,” he stuck out his hand. She casually looked up from an article on dwarves, and eyed his facial features, scrutinizing. He let his hand go back to his side, and his smile faded as she moved back to reading, shifting away from his awkward feelings.
What could she be thinking, he wondered, glancing at her soft features. He couldn’t suppress the urge to want her, but had to for the sake of avoiding any misunderstandings she might have. The last thing he could use right now was a cop shoving his nose into something blown out of proportion. Some kind of domestic dispute taken to television levels of ridiculousness. His eyes were glued to the floor with all the possibilities that could turn his direction away from her at that moment. The thoughts and insults weighing in with an equal measure that his conscience couldn’t forgive so easily. Her voice, though, quickly snapped him out of it.
“Jude. My name is Jude. It is nice to meet you Drew.”
He looked directly into her eyes when he broke his trance. They were the darkest green, most enchanting green, he had ever seen. He could feel his lip droop down, but neglected to care about it, at least until the drool began. Her soft, pouty lips smirked cynically, and he guessed that was a common reaction as he mopped up the drool from his chin. He caught himself and chuckled. She smiled softly, but turned back to her magazine, and Drew looked away. He felt himself idle into thoughts of livid disappointment. He was now dry-mouthed to the point that he absentmindedly put three quarters into the drink machine in the corner. It was only after the first few gulps that he realized his erroneous ways, and now he didn’t have enough change to dry his laundry.
He decided that he had made a mistake in putting the quarters to a much more frivolous expenditure than was necessary. His head softly hit the soda machine, he damned his dry mouth, and weighed his options more carefully. Either he was going to have to spend more cash that he didn’t have, buying something at the convenience store for the change, or perhaps ask his new friend if she had any change to spare. Either way, he had already made a fool of himself. His tongue staggered as he moved towards the girl he had just met, feeling so inexplicably attracted to her, and fumbled with the words to borrow some change. His steps felt heavy to him, and the progress from drink machine to attractive girl seemed much slower than it was in reality because of the weight his emotions threw in on his perpetuating failure with women. There he was, however, within three inches of Jude’s body, walking into her stare.
She kind of giggled as she reached into her pocket, and pulling out another dollar in quarters, handed him the four quarters with a smile. “It’s really no problem, Drew. I’m glad that I could help.” But Drew still felt a little awkward about begging for the money, however, he was now able to finish his laundry easily. He walked over to the machine he threw his wet clothes into, quarters in hand, and started the process into motion. Sitting next to her, Drew sucked in a breath before he started to speak, and realized that she wasn’t listening to him. She looked into his eyes as she came closer to his face, her eyes were glassy and glittering with a slight image inside of them, and it all blurred out of focus for Drew as they kissed then. A long passionate savory kiss that sent electric vibrations through his lips, a static discharge of lust and desire embodied in this creature, her oh-so-dark hair brushing his nose as his head twisted to match hers as the kiss became deeper. Her tongue leaped out to greet his mouth and lips, forcing through his teeth to meet his tongue on the other side, and he moaned under his breath as he melted into her soft yet firm hold on him.
It was bugging him to no end, and dragging itself out thoroughly into the impending fall season, factual practical elements like he didn’t have a job when it would begin to get colder. What would he do then? How would he afford luxuries gas money, let alone any such thing as a car payment, and any kind of meal worthwhile that wasn’t affordable fast food? How could he lavish money on women and beers with his friends without a steady career direction in front of him? Without any help from nonexistent parents, and going to college full-time, his student loans might not even be able to afford the rent for the apartment. It was all stressing him to no end, indeed. Just one day at a time, he thought, the student loans were paying off still. The very idea of repayment hadn’t reared its ugly head, yet. Now was a very different mode. Laundry mode; a veritable countdown to the apocalypse of mundane humanity.
Boredom to the nth degree because he has to sit there the whole two hours it takes to meticulously wash his clothes. Nowhere to go, and no money to do it with. With his car actually being broke, and the sensation of an almost torrential rainstorm outside was just a small bonus. He laughed oddly to himself then as his sense of humor regarded the situation.
Walking through the mess was becoming a heinous experience, with the debris flooding over the sidewalk as lightning and thunder battled it out overhead, but at least the dryers and washers were close-by. The laundromat was a small coin-operated deal with a charge only fifty cents per load, and the same total for the dryers as well. Not a bad situation, but the whole one-room sits precariously between a gas station and large row of rundown and grayed out houses of a less-than-shady demeanor. Sometimes he would have felt safer near a prison than here. He had come terribly close to being beaten to a pulp at various odd occasions in his time going to school here, for architecture, though, he wasn’t quite sure why this was the way. He flinched spontaneously when he had neared the entrance the laundromat as the thunder and lightning struck at the same time a few miles too close.
Gregory couldn’t believe the luck. He could, however, believe the rain starting to get in his way. The only one favorable factor was that of the sanctuary of the launderette, and by the time his laundry would be done, the rain might stop. Nighttime, however, would have settled in, and safety would be a fairly big issue then. Running home would keep him safe from thugs, but how fast could he jog with an arms load of clothes? When he walked through the door of the laundromat, he was drenched to his disgust, and still had to wash the clothes in his tote. With a splat, the bag hit the floor, and he began heaving his clothes one by one into the machine. He was even too broke at this point to separate his laundry, and tossed in all the articles of wash, he didn’t even notice the girl who walked in. So focused, so pissed-off, that he couldn’t sense her presence.
It wasn’t until he slammed down the lid, and she stood across from him at the next machine, that he noticed anything about her. She was a few inches under his height, her pale wet skin almost glowing as she glanced at him, and placed her white skivvies with shirts and pants in the same bleached load. Her hair was red with streaks of dark shades, and as he pumped the machine with quarters, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Maybe his day wasn’t going to be too much worse after all. He looked down, and smiled to himself, as he waited. She looked at him, and they made eye contact as she sat down on the other side of the laundromat, the only two people amid the quiet rumble of washing machines. She smiled again, after awhile, but seemed a little more nervous about it. She glanced beside herself, and grabbed an outdated magazine sitting there, perusing it with delicacy.
He looked at her until that action made him rethink his attentions, and he too looked around for reading material, however finding nothing to look through. He was thinking to himself of how best to approach her, and began trying to seem as though he wasn’t thinking about that. His glances in her direction, however, betrayed his attentions to her, and she seemed to have a frozen nervous grimace on her face. He stood up to walk towards her. She stayed true to her magazine browsing, and he seemed in his own mind like the leering stranger, she probably ignored him thinking he was drooling to rape her or something. He coughed to clear his throat, and sat next to her, she seemed intent upon her task. “Hi, my name’s Drew,” he stuck out his hand. She casually looked up from an article on dwarves, and eyed his facial features, scrutinizing. He let his hand go back to his side, and his smile faded as she moved back to reading, shifting away from his awkward feelings.
What could she be thinking, he wondered, glancing at her soft features. He couldn’t suppress the urge to want her, but had to for the sake of avoiding any misunderstandings she might have. The last thing he could use right now was a cop shoving his nose into something blown out of proportion. Some kind of domestic dispute taken to television levels of ridiculousness. His eyes were glued to the floor with all the possibilities that could turn his direction away from her at that moment. The thoughts and insults weighing in with an equal measure that his conscience couldn’t forgive so easily. Her voice, though, quickly snapped him out of it.
“Jude. My name is Jude. It is nice to meet you Drew.”
He looked directly into her eyes when he broke his trance. They were the darkest green, most enchanting green, he had ever seen. He could feel his lip droop down, but neglected to care about it, at least until the drool began. Her soft, pouty lips smirked cynically, and he guessed that was a common reaction as he mopped up the drool from his chin. He caught himself and chuckled. She smiled softly, but turned back to her magazine, and Drew looked away. He felt himself idle into thoughts of livid disappointment. He was now dry-mouthed to the point that he absentmindedly put three quarters into the drink machine in the corner. It was only after the first few gulps that he realized his erroneous ways, and now he didn’t have enough change to dry his laundry.
He decided that he had made a mistake in putting the quarters to a much more frivolous expenditure than was necessary. His head softly hit the soda machine, he damned his dry mouth, and weighed his options more carefully. Either he was going to have to spend more cash that he didn’t have, buying something at the convenience store for the change, or perhaps ask his new friend if she had any change to spare. Either way, he had already made a fool of himself. His tongue staggered as he moved towards the girl he had just met, feeling so inexplicably attracted to her, and fumbled with the words to borrow some change. His steps felt heavy to him, and the progress from drink machine to attractive girl seemed much slower than it was in reality because of the weight his emotions threw in on his perpetuating failure with women. There he was, however, within three inches of Jude’s body, walking into her stare.
She kind of giggled as she reached into her pocket, and pulling out another dollar in quarters, handed him the four quarters with a smile. “It’s really no problem, Drew. I’m glad that I could help.” But Drew still felt a little awkward about begging for the money, however, he was now able to finish his laundry easily. He walked over to the machine he threw his wet clothes into, quarters in hand, and started the process into motion. Sitting next to her, Drew sucked in a breath before he started to speak, and realized that she wasn’t listening to him. She looked into his eyes as she came closer to his face, her eyes were glassy and glittering with a slight image inside of them, and it all blurred out of focus for Drew as they kissed then. A long passionate savory kiss that sent electric vibrations through his lips, a static discharge of lust and desire embodied in this creature, her oh-so-dark hair brushing his nose as his head twisted to match hers as the kiss became deeper. Her tongue leaped out to greet his mouth and lips, forcing through his teeth to meet his tongue on the other side, and he moaned under his breath as he melted into her soft yet firm hold on him.
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