This time he forgot his book however. So he sat there looking at the other customers in the laundromat. He didn't want to just stare at his phone. Because well... well it was obvious. People were spending too much time on their screens these days. So much that they would forget that they had a washer and dryer in their own house. And that the timer was about to go off on the machine. "Fuck," Johnny thought.
Also because people were spending too much time on their screens they were forgetting things like the fact that their friend was about to show up anytime now at their house. "Fuck!" he said this time. Aloud. People were looking at him. There was a skinny tall man. Probably about 6'3 or so but with such bad posture probably stood at only 6 foot flat now. He looked over with droopy eyelids. The look reminded Johnny of his old days smoking weed.
He had to get back to the house. He checked the time on the washer. Fuck 17 minutes left. He didn't want to leave his clothes here. But he also didn't want to carry these wet clothes with him across the street. His hand patted his pocket. He should've brought his fucking phone. Why had he been ideological?
An old lady came up to him. She was tan and had large cruves and wrinkly skin. "you look like you want your momma back."
And Johnny remembered. Yes he had wanted his mom back. Or a mom back. HE thought he might get married to fulfill that void. But now this woman at the laundromat was offering to fill it. So why not see what she had to say. But he had to be careful. Couldn't act like he knew what she was trying to do.
"I'm sorry, miss."
"Let's just get to the point." she smiled her golden teeth. "I know you miss your mom."
Well he did indeed miss his mom. But didn't he need to get out of here? Wasn't there somewhere he had to be? He had to go home. For what though? He forgot.
"Come to momma. come to momma."
Also because people were spending too much time on their screens they were forgetting things like the fact that their friend was about to show up anytime now at their house. "Fuck!" he said this time. Aloud. People were looking at him. There was a skinny tall man. Probably about 6'3 or so but with such bad posture probably stood at only 6 foot flat now. He looked over with droopy eyelids. The look reminded Johnny of his old days smoking weed.
He had to get back to the house. He checked the time on the washer. Fuck 17 minutes left. He didn't want to leave his clothes here. But he also didn't want to carry these wet clothes with him across the street. His hand patted his pocket. He should've brought his fucking phone. Why had he been ideological?
An old lady came up to him. She was tan and had large cruves and wrinkly skin. "you look like you want your momma back."
And Johnny remembered. Yes he had wanted his mom back. Or a mom back. HE thought he might get married to fulfill that void. But now this woman at the laundromat was offering to fill it. So why not see what she had to say. But he had to be careful. Couldn't act like he knew what she was trying to do.
"I'm sorry, miss."
"Let's just get to the point." she smiled her golden teeth. "I know you miss your mom."
Well he did indeed miss his mom. But didn't he need to get out of here? Wasn't there somewhere he had to be? He had to go home. For what though? He forgot.
"Come to momma. come to momma."