On August 12th, 2010 I tired of doing my own laundry. The following is a collection of “conversations” I’ve had with the attendant at the laundromat, one amongst the many on Torrance Avenue, that I was fortunate to haphazardly choose as the laundromat for me. My name is Josh. His name, to the best of my limited knowledge of this man, is Laundry Guy. Enjoy.
Me: Hey, boss. Haven’t gone back to Caracas, yet?
LG: Mexicali.
Me: Yeah, right. Got my ticket.
LG: (handing my bags to me) $29
Me: (Handing him $30) Sorry I’m a day late.
LG: (Handing me change) And a dollar short? (eye-balling the tip can.)
Me: Nope.
