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Holidaymat

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For the past couple of years, I have spent holidays at the laundromat. I don’t remember exactly how it happened, an urgent need to do laundry I’d wager, but I like this arrangement. A lot of my reading and writing is done there, and on holidays especially, it tends to be quiet and deserted, save for the odd bachelor throwing his dirty dry clothes into a drier with a couple of drier sheets. Plus, the arcade machines have Metal Slug on it. I mean, c’mon. It doesn’t get any better than that.

Shortly after loading the first machine, I realised I was covered in cat hair, further reaffirming my Cat Lady In Training status. Then I found the space shuttle toy I’ve been looking for for weeks. If there were any doubts as to why I am still single…

But anyway, this year is the first time I’ve spent a holiday with someone other than myself in a while, so instead of doing the normal, red-blooded American thing, Michelle came along. I like to think that she came to hang out with me, but I think it was mostly out of necessity, and to escape the heat.

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