Tremont Laundromat Take n

Thursday, 2 March 2006

Recently I’ve been do­ing my laun­dry in the evenings, and there is al­ways a very old lady play­ing lot­tery with scratch off tick­ets the en­tire time I’m there. It doesn’t mat­ter which day, or what time, she’s there. She only scratches off one ticket at a time, then leaves the ta­ble in the laun­dro­mat, goes out­side, walks next door to the fake Dairy Mart, buys one more lot­tery ticket, comes back into the laun­dro­mat, sits down at the ta­ble and starts scratch­ing again. For God knows how long. She mum­bles to her­self as she does this, and scratches off every sin­gle par­ti­cle of scratch-offi­ness that is present on the card.

She has a friend who doesn’t talk to any­one but her. This friend talks ap­prox­i­mately 73 gril­lion miles a min­ute to Lottery Lady about any­one and every­one who is sick and dy­ing, and oh how ter­ri­ble it is and did you know what kind of head­stone he had and he was buried two weeks ago to­day and so and so’s sis­ter is in hos­pice and he has “Altheimer’s” and starts to scream and the bills they have are so ex­pen­sive did you know that his lungs are filled with this yel­low fluid…

The Tremont Laundromat is a never-end­ing source of sur­re­al­ity. It is al­most worth the $2.75 I pay for each load of laun­dry.