Our recent move to Miami involved scaling down to a smaller apartment. How small? Well, the previous tenants were Barbie and Ken, and they decided they needed more room.
Suffice it to say, there is no room for a washer and dryer. Which means regular visits to the Laundromat. At first we thought it would help us catch up on our reading, but it’s somewhat like bringing a book to a circus. Technically, you can read your book, but the odds are you won’t.
Remember, we live in Miami, which often feels like a foreign country. I recently was returning some stuff I had bought in the local Home Depot. I left my wallet home, and you needed to show ID in order to return merchandise. The cashier asked if I had my Passport. I would expect that question in Casablanca (or, as they call it here, House of White, starring Bogart de Humphrey), and now, I have come to expect it in Miami.
But I digress.
Since we live in Miami, the television sets in the Laundromat are all on Spanish language stations, and tonight we have an American movie dubbed in Spanish. It may be hard to believe, but Val Kilmer speaking Spanish does NOTHING to improve his acting.
But I was focused on another program in front of me, in 3-D. It was called Ninos Increíble.
First, a child, I would guess 2 years old, was walking around with a bag of candy (or as kids call candy, “air”). M&Ms to be precise. He tossed on the floor what looked like a wad of bubble gum. He must’ve realized that trying to eat M&Ms and at the same time chew gum, wasn’t practical. Amazing how those little brains can put things together. My awe at the inner workings of the child-brain evaporated when his sister, who I would estimate to be around 4 years old, crawled over, picked up the gum and put it in her mouth.
“So this is what it’s like to watch a horror movie”, I thought to myself. Meanwhile, the roach watching over my shoulder started gagging.
Shortly thereafter, another child, perhaps 3 years old came by looking into the front loading washers. What could his brain be imagining? Perhaps that he was in a submarine, peering out the portal into the depths of the sea filled with fantastic creatures? Or perhaps he was an astronaut, staring out the rocket’s window into the magnificently terrifying depths of outer space?
Wrong. It seems his brain was telling him “You’re thirsty! Open the door and lick the inside of the glass where the leftover dirty soapy water is hiding!” What did he do? He opened the washer door, and . . .
If we had really been in a submarine, the Laundromat would have started flooding with water when he opened the door. Or, if we were really in a rocket ship, opening the portal would have caused the vacuum of space to suck everyone and everything into the vast darkness. Either one of those things would have been more believable than what really happened: He opened the door to the washer and LICKED THE INSIDE OF THE GLASS.
Now the roach starts screaming at the top of his little lungs. Val Kilmer is still speaking Spanish. A man is skulking around with a portable DVD player, trying to sell bootleg copies of the movie Rio. The roach is interested, but he left his wallet at home. Pandemonium breaks out.
We’re outta there. Soon we’re sucking in our breath so we can fit back into our apartment. Everything is back to normal. It’s going to be OK. That is, until next week. Then it will be . . . laundry-time again.