SassyBlonde

Well, I now have one more item to add to my list of things not to wear to the laundromat under any circumstances. This list now includes:

1. Yoga pants
2. Jogging shorts (the baggy nylon kind)
3. Tank tops
4. Cute tops
5. Cute pants
6. Cute skirts
7. Skirts that come up higher than my ankles
8. Shirts that have any sort of neckline below the collarbone

Why, you ask? Because every time I go to the laundromat I spend two hours fending off the most offensive sort of flirting from the opposite sex. Not just the "Hey baby, what's your number?" sort of flirting, but prolonged, all-during-the-wash-cycle one-sided conversations and deferrals and protests. Seriously. It's not so much what a girl wears there as whether or not she's alone, which draws the guys over from the pool tables in the waiting room like flies. The clothes are a huge red flag though. Look cute in any way and you'll get accosted, and no it makes no difference if you're wearing a ring. Last week when I told the blob-of-the-week I was married and to go away, his response was (honest to God, I swear) "Well you know, girl, it could be just between us..." to which I responded with a frown and a cold remark about exactly where he could go with that one.

And THIS. HAPPENS. EVERY. WEEK. So now I'm basically sick at the thought of having to go there every week, even though it's the only good laundromat around.

Well, today I had just had it with the whole process. In the interest of honesty I should tell you that I violated two of the above rules due to the fact that it was laundry day and I only had a pair of yoga pants and my low-cut yoga tank top to wear as I washed everything else, but when the first guy approached me and started making unbelievably rude comments in Spanish to his greasy buddies about what he'd like to do to my ass, I simply whirled around (who approaches an unfamiliar woman from behind making crude remarks, I ask you?), looked at him coldly, and asked with my arms crossed, "Does that ever work for you? Because from over here, you're rude now as well as being smelly and greasy in the first place, cabron. Shove off, because nobody here is interested in what you got." Speechless to me at least, he turned around and headed back over to his buddies at the pool table muttering about what a bitch I was, and at least he left me alone after that. (I think I managed to cover that my hands were shaking with nerves and rage after the fact, I hope so, at least.)

Marginally satisfying and unnerving all at once. I hate laundry day.