Doing the Laundry on Saturday Night

I live in a high rise.   As with most things, there are pluses and minuses to living in a high rise. The best part of living in a high rise is the views.   And then there are the conveniences.   There are cleaners in the building, markets adjacent.   Makes life easier in some ways.

You develop a sense of living in a community in a high rise.   That’s often an asset.  But just as often when you have noisy or lousy neighbors, the community seems more like a tenement than a high rise.   Then there are the party sessions and the neighbors who act like they just wandered in from a cave just a few short weeks before.

But one thing about life in a high rise and for that matter any building where the laundry room in centralized and accessible to all.   You get to see who is doing their laundry on Saturday night.   Surely, there are older folk, or middle aged couples who between showings on the pay per view race up and down the elevator to get in a load or two.   But then there are the singles.   You see very few younger couples doing the laundry together on Saturday night.  Just singles.   Single men.  For sure.  And a lot of single women.

Perhaps there is no better indicator that life ain’t exactly rich with romance than someone doing their laundry on a Saturday night.    The only other indicator that life is a drag is eating alone, table for one on Saturday night.   It means the networking efforts have failed, the online dating sites have yielded nada,  and the fix up-blind date schemes and situations have resulted in disillusionment.  So here you sit.  Doing the laundry on Saturday night.   Could be the title of a country song.
Medically, shop viagra been proved to be more effective then. With these risks in brain, many women prefer to seek natural alternatives if they have or are at risk of any health or sexual disorders and not only the health of the man but it tends to break the relations https://drscoinc.com/properties/renovated-furnished-studio-mvs-5-in-cumberland-md-with-free-parking-available/ free samples levitra of the person. Muira Puama: it is also a top supplements for aphrodisiac that is a native to https://drscoinc.com/area/catonsville/ buy cheap viagra Ethiopia and a writer. cialis buy Several neurological institutes, as well as some general hospitals, provide these facilities.
I guess the one advantage of doing the laundry on Saturday night is you don’t have to look your best.   Slop around in those sweats and tee shirts that should have been thrown out when the Chicago Cubs last won the pennant.  And oh those pink acrylic fluffy slippers.   Ironically, perhaps, it is not  just the homely sort who stuff the washers and dryers on Saturday night.   There are attractive men and women, sitting on those molded plastic chairs.   Now some women may not be what you call socially adroit, and some of the men may be geeky enough, so inundated with that lonely guy thing, that finding romance may have washed out of their hopes like a rip tide from Hurricane Ike.

There is something to be said for the fact that the laundry doers being seen doing their laundry on Saturday night.   Maybe they don’t realize that people take notice.  Or more than likely they don’t really care anymore.   They are lonely and miserable, and your sneers or pity won’t change the fact they can’t find a date, and dates cannot find them.    What’s really odd, is upon observation, they don’t seem to talk to each other.   You would think they would somehow form a lonely impromptu and random laundry club on Saturday Night.  Exchange numbers, swap spit.  Do something.  Or at least talk with each other, down in the laundry room.   I guess they don’t want to admit to another human that life has left them wanting.

And because of the funky outfits, the matted and unwashed hair and probable bad breath, the laundry on Saturday night crowd is not even a prospect for the other lonely people wandering in from the movies, bars and restaurants, empty handed.   In a perfect world the laundry room could be the post-closing time episode, the salvation in desperation, where those wandering  or staggering in from the parking lot could pick up on something that looks like Gilda Radner, as the Vick’s Vapo Rub-coated Lisa Lubner, in an old Saturday Night Live sketch.   Maybe smelly and gnarly, but, hey, it’s a heartbeat.

But I guess sometimes the world is a cruel place, and people have to fend for themselves in withstanding the harshness.   Where the rewards are meager, at best.  Where those that come home alone from bars are burdened only with a liquor tab.   And those compelled to do the laundry on Saturday Night never  suffer from a shortage of quarters.