I'm sitting in a dirty laundromat spending a good chunk of my day off making sure that I have clean clothes for a few solid weeks. There's an old dude that keeps coughing and producing some crazy vocal yawns that at first sounded like some kind of a stroke. After the 50th one, it's not as startling.
Towards the front we have the homeless crew that frequent this place during colder times. They cycle from going in and outside, filling the place with the scent of old cigarettes. I'm perched in the middle of everything with my laptop on my lap, watching colorful loads twirl around in the wall of dryers. Some people have paperbacks and newspapers to pass the time, others just sit on their phones or stare at the running machines.