In Lieu of an Adventure with AM New York Guy

Although Laundry Guy and AM New York Guy are two totally separate guys, and Laundry Guy could never be expected to take the place of AM New York Guy, he also provides me with many blog-worthy encounters.


Okay, I'll say it. I don't do my own laundry. There is no decent Laundromat near me and the difference in price between doing it myself and having it done by the pound, is about $6.00 a week, a luxury that I think is well worth the price of two lattes. If I'm feeling especially lazy and flush with cash, they will pick up and deliver my laundry, for no additional charge beyond tipping the delivery guy. It is a beautiful thing. Of course, some people feel uneasy dropping off their dirty laundry, and all of the secrets contained therein, to a complete stranger. I know of one Smithie in the city who sent out all of her laundry, except her underwear. Then, every two weeks, she would take all of her underwear to her friend's apartment building and use the washer and dryer in the basement to do a load of exclusively underwear. I don't have this problem. I figure, hey, these people are professionals, there's nothing I can show 'em they haven't seen before. In that way it is just like getting a pedicure. Or a pap smear.

Laundry Guy, with whom I've had a relationship for many months now, is fond of me, and I of him, but I didn't know just how closely he was keeping tabs on my wash habits until this Saturday. Saturday morning, or thereabout, I staggered in with my laundry.

"Hello Nancy." I exchanged pleseantries.

"It's been a long time. 10, 11 days?" I was a little taken aback that he was keeping track (I wasn't, but that sounded about right) and then stumped as to how I could respond. Should I tell him I was feeling lazy and was totally broke in the days leading into pay day? Or that I was changing my clothes less frequently? I didn't want to overshare with Laundry Guy and I wasn't actually certain it was any of his business. But since I knew his comments came from a place of concern and not judgment, I just shrugged and laughed as I backpedaled out.