It had been a long, horrible day. It seemed like the whole world had decided to call upon her to rectify their problems. One complaint after another, the phone didnât stop ringing once. But now, she was free. Her boss had finally allowed her to close up her office for the weekend. Not a moment too soon either, although she did regret not bringing a warmer jacket. It had been raining all day, only stopping but thirty minutes before she left her work.
Now the evening was frigid, way below the usual temperature one expected to feel in August. The cold damp air seemed to cling to her skin as she made her best effort to dodge puddles on her trek home. At least it was also late, and most of the general population had made an effort to clear the streets an hour ago. Which was something she was grateful for. There was nothing worse then having to push her way past crowds of people on her way home, it always hindered her ability to unwind from the dayâs events. Now she had the ability to set her own pace and just let herself relax.
Glancing up ahead she noticed a crosswalk light turn to red, forcing her to come to a halt as she let slip a sigh and pulled her thin coat tighter about herself. The night really was cold and she couldnât wait until she finally reached her apartment building. Sheâd turn on the gas fireplace, take a nice warm bubble bathâŚBefore she could continue her thoughts, the light turned green and she stepped down into the street. Even as she did so, one last vehicle flew through the intersection, nearly running her over in the process and she suddenly found herself covered in mud. Her skirt and jacket were just about caked in it and she spun around to face the direction the car had gone in.
âThanks buddy! Thank you so fucking much!â she exclaimed angrily as she threw a hand into the air.
Of course there was no way the person in the car had heard her and she had no other choice then to continue across the street soaked and filthy. âAnd I didnât think this day could get any worse,â she muttered angrily as she walked down the streets toward her apartment. But the further from the street corner she got, the more colder and uncomfortable she became. Eventually she gave in and turned to hail herself a cab, yet before she managed to throw a hand in the air she noticed a small twenty-four hour Laundromat across the street.
âWell.. At the least I could dry off my skirt and coat,â she thought to herself as she moved across the street and stepped into the Laundromat. The place seemed well kept, there were six washing machines set in two rows in the middle of the room. While on the back wall were six industrial sized drying machines. About what you would expect from any Laundromat. To her left she saw a small vending machine that dispensed single use boxes of dry laundry detergent.
Deciding that itâd be best to wash her soiled items, instead of just drying them she grabbed hold of her purse and purchased one of the boxes. She then removed her jacket and skirt, tossing them into the nearest washing machine and starting it up. It was only then that she realized what she was doing. Not that washing clothes was anything to be surprised about. But here she was, standing in a public Laundromat, at midnight, in nothing but her thin blouse, a bra, and panties. What if someone was to walk in on her?
The very thought of being caught like this was embarrassing⌠Or, was it? Perhaps if the timing was right it could be an exciting experience. But.. Exciting? Her? Hardly. With a small shrug she grabbed a magazine off one of the chairs set about the room and sat down, preparing to read some of the articles while her clothes were being washed. No more then fifteen minutes had passed before she noticed a vehicle pull up in front of the Laundromat. It seemed that she was no longer going to have this space to herself, and the idea of it sparked something inside her.
With a bit of curiosity she watched as a young man emerged from the vehicle and unloaded a basket of laundry from the trunk. Yet before he stepped into the building she returned her gaze to the magazine, pretending to read. She didnât have to keep up the guise for long though, because within minutes the buzzer on the washing machine containing her clothes went off. So much for being silent and un-noticeable. Pursing her lips together she rose from her seat and moved to the machine, opening its top lid and removing her damp clothing from its confinement.
She wasnât aware that the manâs gaze had fallen upon her until she turned to the dryers along the back wall and saw his reflection in the glass of one of the closed machines. What was he thinking about? Pushing aside the thought for the moment she opened another machine and stuffed her clothing inside, pulling a few quarters out of her blouse pocket she started the cycle up. She then turned around, hiding a slight smirk as the man immediately lowered his gaze and turned the washing machine containing his clothing on.
Trying to appear as comfortable as she could she returned to the seat sheâd been occupying and picked the magazine up once again. Of course she really wasnât interested in reading, though she casually flipped the page of the magazine to a new article. The manâs gaze was again upon her, even though she didnât look up to confirm this, she felt it. She didnât care either, let him look; she thought to herself as she glanced upward momentarily. The man really was rather good looking, standing approximately six feet in height, he had sandy brown hair and blue eyes. He was slender, yet not over-much and he carried himself rather well as he stepped around the washing machines and settled into a chair two spots away from her.
Perhaps the day wouldnât be a total waste. Smiling to herself she returned her gaze to the magazine she held. The two of them sat in silence for about ten minutes before the man approached her, sitting down in the chair immediately to her right.
âSo,â he said as he settled himself. âI havenât seen you in here before.â
