Scenes from the Laundromat

On Tuesdays, we go to the laundromat. The one in our building, is just that, one. There is one washer and dryer, and it always has some guys underwear in it. Last Tuesday we were sitting in our brightly lit room full of spinning clothes, at the local laundromat, and I was pretty bored. I'm currently reading a book that is really good about every 100 pages or so. So I keep reading it. I looked up from the book and saw some cute Marisa Tomei looking woman sorting her laundry. OK, I noticed. So about another ten pages into this crappy book, and in walks this Frankie Valli looking guy in a tweed sport coat, and clicky shoes. It sounded like he was about to do a dance on the tile floors, as he tapped his way to a washer. Frankie noticed Marisa,  and  immediately lost all his composure. This guy actually stopped, and stared at her, then took a minute or two, of short steps towards the washing machines with his tiny bag of clothes. He deposited the quarters one at a time, fumbling them while undressing this woman. Finally his machine was running and he paced back and forth for a bit, probably wondering how to get this woman's attention. She wasn't too interested, and he walked out the front door, with a look back, maybe heading for a martini at the bar next door, so he could work up some nerve.

About 20 minutes later, here comes Frankie through the front door, looking like he was ready to run a marathon. Really short shorts, exposing two sticks full of hair, some nylon stretchy shirt, and a stupid looking, not quite a baseball hat on his tan head. Frankie got his laundry, did some stretches, and bent over to put his clothes in the lowest dryer, all in front of this cute uninterested woman. Marisa looked up from doing her nails, smirked, then continued filing. Frankie leaned on the table and asked Marisa how long a quarter would get him. There was a pause, then she laughed the most hideous nasal noise you ever heard. Like her nose was in a vise grip, she said "Ha ha ha about six minutes, ha ha ha ha". Frankie's head jerked back a bit, smiled, said thank you, and after awkwardly starting the dryer, left through the front door with that voice stuck in his head. Marisa quickly gathered her laundry and left before Frankie decided to put his tap shoes back on. Wow, you don't get this kind of entertainment in the suburbs. Love the city, and this trip was way better than the last one, where we just had the crazy guy watching our laundry spin around.


Boat show:
We were strolling the docks at the boat show, when we heard over a PA something like "owners of a French flagged vessel please report to your boat". Hmm, someone is in trouble, I thought. We exited the show, totally bored with the HUGE sailboats, that nobody can afford, and walked the Naval Academy grounds. When we got to the shoreline we saw some towboat US guys around a cat in the harbor. Looking closer, we saw the big cat was up against a mono-hull, and they were gouging themselves nicely.  One of my fears when anchoring is having some boat drag down on us when we're ashore. That, and Whales knocking my keel off.  Imagine the shock these folks have in store for them, when they return to the damage. Wonder how they find out what happened? Will TowboatUS notify them somehow? Were these the folks being paged?

That sucks