Day at the Laundromat
John had waited until the very last moment to do his laundry, wearing things twice and some things even three times, before finally going out to the local Laundromat. Because of this, by the time he gets there to wash his dirty clothes there is so much he is expecting to be doing laundry all morning. His only available clothing is a pair of cutoff jeans he almost never wears and one of his undershirts he wears under his work overalls. That, along with his marine-sculpted body, begins to attract unwanted male attention.
At first, John doesn't notice the other man staring at him as he makes his way over with his basket full of clothes. He also doesn't pay attention as the man chooses the machine right next to his nor does he notice when the man's staring turns into leering.
John is used to people looking at him. He has an air about him, created from his time in the military, and a tattoo on his arm that people find difficult to ignore. And he is used to women flirting with him—respectfully turning down their advances, due to his current relationship with Mary, of course. He is, however not used to what is about to happen.
"Ooh, you're in the marines?" The other man lightly touches to the tattoo on John's arm and he stiffens at the unexpected contact.
"Um, yeah." he begins, turning back to his clothes basket to grab another armful of dirty laundry. "I was." The man gasps.
"Oh my goodness, were you in that war?" At this, John visibly stiffens and the other man notices.
"Yeah…"
"Don't like talking about it, huh?" The man says between loading his laundry. Unlike John, he is carefully dividing out his clothes and checking the pockets. "Those protestors sure gave you guys a hard time." He looks down John's front. "Not too hard, I hope." John has yet to catch on to the other's game; he's too busy worrying about cleaning his clothes. He finally finishes loading his washer and puts in the quarters he got from the change machine. Well, that's one load down, at least; he's only one third through his clothes. Darn these machines and their small size!
"No, I didn't pay much attention." It's a lie, of course; he came back expecting to be seen as a hero just like the soldiers from the past wars he had learned about in high school history class. John moves to next washer down, moving his basket to the next washer down.
"Name's Billy, by the way…" The man puts out his hand for John to shake.
"John." John says, accepting Billy's hand. For a long moment their hands linger, grasped together tightly and for a bit too long. Billy stares into John's eyes in a way that makes John's stomach twist. And when John pulls his hand away, a bit forcefully, the other man's hand rubs over his. At this, John gets the idea that this guy isn't just looking for a friendly chat. He ignores this feeling and goes back to his task. The two finish loading their machines in silence and when John is finished loading his third machine, he goes and sits down in a plastic, yellow chair attached to a bunch of other yellow chairs by a metal bar. He takes his now empty basket with him.
After finishing his laundry also, Billy goes and retrieves a worn down fashion magazine from a stack available to customers to read. He sits a few chairs from John and pretends to read something inside before promptly closing it with a sigh and approaching John yet again.
"Hi, John right?" He reintroduces himself as if they are old acquaintances—as if they didn't just meet, what five minutes ago? John humors him out of politeness.
"Yeah…"
"It's just that I am so bad at names, you know." The man takes the seat right next to John on the opposite side as his basket. Billy gets a little too close for comfort.
"Yeah…" the ex-marine scoots over in his chair.
"My name's Billy, just in case you forgot. Can I call you Johnny?" Billy scoots a little closer, brushing his hand over John's exposed thigh, and John stands abruptly to get away. He heads over to the candy machine, pretending that that is the reason he got up to begin with. Staring at the candy machine aimlessly, he sees Billy approach out of the corner of his eye.
"So, whatcha getting, Johnny…?" And at this point, John is tired of the other man trailing after him.
"What do you want…money…drugs?" he asks angrily. "'Cause I don't have any!" He struggles to keep his tone down.
"No, sir, what I want is you." At this, the ex-marine loses all his steam and becomes pale. "As you know, Johnny, you are a very handsome man…" The once "fearless soldier" is reduced to being able to do nothing more than meep in response. "I just thought that since you like dressing like that, that…"
"I have a girlfriend." John blurts out as soon as he finds his voice. He rushes out the glass, double door in the front and heads straight to the payphones available there. He puts in a quarter in one of the phones, because that is all he has at the moment and dials in what he knows is Mary's number. It rings a few times and he sighs when he finally hears a click; but instead of the expected voice of his girlfriend, it is her mother who starts to speak.
"Hello?"
"Is Mary in? This is John." He looks over to see the undeterred Billy standing just within the doors. His jaw tightens. He then tears his eyes away just as he hears Deanna's answer over the phone.
"Um, no, sorry, John, she's out with her father right now." To which John loses hope of his girlfriend coming to save him from this flirting male. And he is trapped. He can't just leave and he can't seem to get the other man to leave him alone. "I don't think she'll be out too late, though."
"Well, can you tell her I called when she gets back? I'd really appreciate it if she met me at the Laundromat. You know, the between the train track and the pizza stand?"
"Of, course, John, I'll do that. Bye-bye."
"Yeah, bye-bye, Mrs. Campbell…" He hangs up the phone, but ignores the change that clangs in the hatch. Walking back into the building, he avoids eye contact with the other man. He returns to his seat by his basket.
"Awe, you didn't make up a girlfriend because you are shy?" "No, I didn't. Her name is Mary." John is angrily wondering if the other would be talking like this if the two of them weren't alone. Seriously, were they the only two who had to do laundry today?
Billy taps his chin as if he is thinking. "Or maybe you are afraid of what people will think about you?" He crosses his legs over the same way a woman does when she's wearing a skirt.
"No, I said I have a girlfriend." As much as John really wants to sock this guy, he really doesn't want to go to jail for a hate crime.
"Well, I won't tell if you won't." Billy leans in close to John's ear as he speaks as if there is anyone else there to hear. It is then that the bell to the entrance rings and John's hope raises at the thought that it is Mary. It isn't. It's another man. Well, at least he won't be alone with this incorrigible flirt.
"Oh, hi, Billy…!" John groans inwardly, but then remembers that there is a possibility that this man doesn't know that his friend is gay and that perhaps that in itself will keep Billy from continuing his never-ending advances. "You doing laundry today, too?" It's a rhetorical question, of course. "Oh, who's your friend? He's gorgeous."
"Oh, yes, I know. His name is John and he is an ex-marine!"
'Why me…?' John can't help but think this as the others prattle on about him and other things. He spots the door to the restroom that he knows is a one-person bathroom. He heads toward it hoping that he can hide out in there until his clothes are clean, or until the other men left, whatever came first.
"Where are you going?" asks Billy.
"Gotta use the toilet..." He struggles not to run to the small enclosing and once inside, rushes to lock the door. Turning around, he sees his reflection of himself wearing his current outfit for the first time and his chin drops. When he had left that morning to do his laundry, he was in such a hurry he didn't bother to look to see what he looked like in the clothes he chose to wear. Not only do the cutoffs show off the impressive musculature of his legs, but the nearly translucent undershirt does nothing to hide his torso. Anyone looking at him would be able to see his muscular arms, back and chest. His stomach falls and he suddenly feels very exposed. Then, there is a knock on the door.
"Hey, Johnny, whatcha doing in there…You're taking an awfully long time." It's Billy.
"I'm having a baby!" John can hear Billy's laugh on the other side of the door.
"Coming out, though, huh?" He puts the toilet lid down and takes a seat. He can't go out there to them, not after knowing what he looks like. It is then that he hears a scuffle outside the door and then another knock. John is feeling pensive now. But then a female voice calls to him.
"John? I was out with Dad, sorry. I came here as soon as mom told me. She said you sounded stressed over the phone." John relaxes. He gets up and opens the door slowly. Billy is nowhere to be seen and neither is his friend. Well, at least they're not near the door. Mary has to suppress a laugh with her hands to her mouth as soon as she catches sight of what he's wearing.
"John, your clothes…" she squeaks.
"Well, I was in a hurry and I didn't have anything else to wear."
"Why do you even have those clothes in the first place?" Now she is laughing. "Come on," she sobers up. "Let's finish your laundry at my house." John steps out of the bathroom and Mary loops a possessive arm around his. They then walk over and get John's empty basket and it is then that John notices that Billy has a black eye. Hey, no hate crime there—just a jealous girlfriend protecting what's hers. They then proceed to remove his damp clothes from the washers and put them in the basket and before they leave, Mary gives John her jacket.