The Laundromat

I was at lunch today with some of my colleagues. We started talking about how luxurious living in a hotel would be. Then someone brought up having to go to a Laundromat.

I flashed back to doing laundry with FG there, in Australia, and driving to and from the Laundromat in his old, light blue car. Which took me to watching him practice some shit juditso, or whatever the f it was, and the power in his arms and hands. I remembered again.

I was staring at the t.v., apparently, as they questioned what was happening and I stammered through it.

Thank you TV.