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At the laundromat.

2021-05-19

joneworlds@mailbox.org


There's this tiny laundromat place across from town hall, and I'm in there the other day to wash my stuff. It's me in there, and the owner who also brings oatmeal raisin cookies which are my favorite, and this centaur and her kid are in there too. Centaurs don't go through near as much laundry as you'd think, as they rarely put clothes on their horse parts. So it's mainly just shirts and bras and stuff like that, and also hats. Centaurs almost always wear hats. Wool and cotton caps, mostly. Or acrylic.


I'm listening to my radio while I wait for my laundry machine, and it just so happens that I'm listening to a centaur station. There's a bunch of them on AM. Their favorite kind of programs are these sort of organized shouting matches. It's basically two centaurs taking turns hurling insults and cussing at each other. And every few minutes there's a bell and they take a break, and some commentator kind of reviews and scores it like a round of boxing. I used to think these shows were pretty wacky stuff, but it's actually sort of entertaining, once you get used to all the filthy language. But that's just how most centaurs connect & interact, seems to me. Even the mom and her kid here at the laundromat are going at it. I'm pretty used to it, by now.


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