laundry at the conoco

i don't particularly like doing laundry but at some point it becomes a necessity if you want to travel about without arousing suspicion. i didn't want to arouse a great deal of suspicion or draw undue attention so i bucked up. i got a roll of quarters at the bank with my debit card and headed for the laundromat because where i'm hiding right now does not include the on site convenience.
i loaded up my truck and headed for the conoco station where you can either do your own laundry or pay and leave it to have it done. i wasn't aware of the second option until i got there or i probably would have paid someone else to do it. i'm lazy when it comes to laundry.
i wasn't able to find my iPod so i was bereft of tunes. i didn't bring a book either (not thinking, i guess). so i sat and stared intently at the wall during the wash cycle simply wishing the time away. then i moved my chair and watched the clothes tumble about through the glass window in the dryer. i imagined a david and goliath scenario as the jeans seemed to be fighting the socks. it was touch and go with all the tumbling and what have you. socks seemed to have an edge. jeans just flopped about lazily.
then a portly, poorly-dressed, scarf-headed-middle-aged lady came in with her laundry in white garbage bags. she gave me a sideways glance. it wasn't a friendly glance. like the transylvanian evil eye. i remained absolutely motionless, sighing occasionally as the socks infiltrated and eventually dominated the jeans. this seemed to concern her even more. the sighing, that is. sensing this, i took it up a level and began constructing a fort from the empty laundry carts. i blocked her access to the soap vending machine.
she left hurriedly. seems she told on me. the attendant came to survey the scene. needless to say, i'll have to do my next load at the other laundromat.
i promise i'll be good.