Help! I'm Talking and I Can't Shut Up!
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Welcome | Christmas ElvisWhoa . . . Nellie!
Don't even THINK about reading this first chapter unless you have read the "WELCOME". That would be like eating a banana split without the bananas -- something "just ain't right"!
CHRISTMAS EVE AT THE LAUNDROMAT WITH ELVIS
(Sung to the tune of "Chestnuts Roasting")
Chestnuts roasting by a row of dryers,
Jack Frost sorting out his clothes;
Yuletide songs by the Jukebox Choir,
And folks dressed in curlers and bathrobes.
Now that you "re in a "holiday mood," answer this question. Where did you spend Christmas Eve last year? Odds are, even if you didn't spend it at Grandma's, singing carols "round the tree, you probably weren't at your local laundromat!
Murphy's Law Number 107 states: "When something breaks down, it will happen on a weekend or a holiday, when a repairman is not on duty." I don't care what the ads say, on Christmas Eve even the Maytag repairman is home with his family. Actually, our dryer broke a few days earlier, but I thought I would wait until Christmas Eve to see if Santa would bring us a new one. That was until my wife reminded me that "I" was Santa.
After our boys said they had worn the same underwear four days in a row, (which I didn't think was unusual for them), I wisely decided to take the clothes to the laundromat--a good move if I expected anything under the tree Christmas morning for myself.
As I kicked the laundromat door open, with two baskets of clothes in my hands and a box of detergent under my arm, I was met by a "firing squad" line of glaring women. They all had that look that said, "We have to do this every week of our lives, so don't even think about saying "Merry Christmas!!
Since the parking lot was full, I figured I would have to wait until New Year's Day for a vacant washing machine, but it looked as if I were in luck. I noticed two machines weren't being used.
Slowly, as I made my way through a thick haze of cigar and cigarette smoke, I set the baskets down in front of the two empty machines. (Yes, one of the "ladies" was smoking a cigar! These are the kind of women who chew tobacco and throw horseshoes on Saturday night--or any other time they want to!)
I confidently loaded the washers in a way that I knew would impress them--the way I had seen my wife do so many times. The members of the "Laundromat Welcome Wagon Committee" still had not said a word to me.
I reached in my pocket for the first of an eternity of quarters to be inserted, when I realized why these two machines weren't being used. You guessed it. A piece of masking tape had been placed over the coin slot that read, "OUT OF ORDER!" It might as well have read, "THE PERSON WHO TRIES TO PUT MONEY IN THIS MACHINE WILL BE VERY EMBARRASSED AND WILL LOOK REALLY STUPID!!"
I couldn't believe it. It was at this time I actually heard words coming from one of my new laundromat "friends." She mumbled out of one corner of her mouth, (since a 17 inch cigarette was dangling from the other corner), "Them machines been broke fer "bout 2 years". Oh, really!? I thought, and do you usually wait until someone makes a complete fool of himself, like I just did, before you tell them?
Of course, I kept these thoughts to myself, for fear they wouldn't let me do my laundry at all and I might have to go home and dry these clothes with my wife's hair dryer, which at this point, didn't sound like such a bad idea.
I suddenly had a memory flashback. My wife says this happens often to older people. I hadn't been to a Laundromat since the early years of our marriage, when we would make it a "quality time" event. This was "B.C."--Before Children.
Ah, of course, the sweet aroma of bleach, detergent, and cigarette smoke. The sound of children screaming and hollering as they run between the washers and dryers, playing bumper cars with the clothes buggies. The appropriate attire of the women in hair curlers, bathrobes, or their husband's flannel shirts hanging below their knees.
As I patiently wait on an available dryer, (what else do I have to do on Christmas Eve?), and reminisce about the past years of my life, I almost swear I can hear Christmas music. Notjust any Christmas music, but.. . ELVIS!
I look toward the jukebox and--I'm not kidding about this-- there is a young couple slow dancing in front of the jukebox as Elvis sings the classic, "Blue Christmas."
This scene may have made my entire trip worth it. Picture in your mind: A couple, (apparently her boyfriend came by to see her before he went deer hunting), in front of the jukebox, slowly swaying as Elvis sang, ". . . I'll have a blue Christmas without you.. . ." This couple's eyes gazed at each other as if they were at their high school prom. In fact, more so. At school dances I can't even tell who students are dancing with!
I guess I wasn't the only person somewhat "touched" by this scene, because one of the women, (we're talking "real" women), said to me, "I'm finished. You can use this machine if you want to." Wow! The Christmas spirit has even reached the laundromat!
I'm finally inserting my money, puzzled how these "regulars" figure it's a good deal to spend $15.00 to $20.00 every week doing their clothes here, instead of purchasing a washer and dryer, making monthly payments of the same amount, and at the end of the year owning the appliance! Twill admit they probably wouldn't get to hear Elvis sing "Blue Christmas" if they stayed at home.
Of course, Jethro of "The Beverly Hillbillies" never could figure out having a washer and dryer at his house either. I remember him explaining to Jed, Granny, and Elly Mae that he "...had been in the basement all day watching the "TV with the round screen', and not only was it the same old show all the time, but the TV only got one channel!"
Now I ask you, if Jethro Clampett can't figure it out--and he's been all the way to the sixth grade--then how can the rest of us dummies know the answer?
A few years ago I read about a guy who, realizing laundromats were basically very boring places, (he obviously hadn't visited our town), where people sat for hours with nothing to do opened a combination laundromat and bar/grill. I'm serious. He called it "Duds and Suds." This sounds like a good idea, as long as there is a jukebox with Elvis records on it!!
My clothes are finally finished, after I spent more money doing the laundry than I did on Christmas presents. As I head for the door, the jukebox is playing the Ray Stevens' hit, "Cause Santa Clause Is Watching You . . . He's everywhere, He's everywhere," and I'm thinking--"He" sure is. Now if "He" could just remember where he hid that bicycle that goes under the tree tonight!!
I bet Elvis knows!
Welcome | Christmas Elvis