Lucy's

Lucy's

So it was time to wash my comforter and as our complex has washers that are just too small to handle anything more than a mid size load without leaving soap residue on the clothes so a trip down to Lucy's in Echo Park was on order.

Why there? Having at one time lived a few blocks from this place I knew it had the uber washer I required. Also I sort of missed the place.

I missed the characters, the semi-strangers I'd pass going in as they came out, the smiles, the random band member folding his or her clothes, the fold and fluff ladies, my choice of Spanish channels on the mounted flat screens, and even the cops searching the aisles to catch that freaked out person being chased by real or imagined foes.

To me it was a functional space for individuals in transition (like my mental/relational state at the time I lived in EP), either to refresh one's outerwear, grab a 5 dollar foot long at Subway or a coffee fix at Starbucks. Sometimes I would read or write or just trip out on the green tea at Starbucks thinking if I would eventually see everyone I ever knew during my lifetime if I just stayed in one spot at Lucy's.

This might also fall under my "I'm a big fan of Timing" motto and the less glamorous "I f---ing blame you Timing for all these regrets!"

Doing laundry back then offered time to refresh those types of regrets but this trip to Lucy's was different. This time I could precisely point to where I once was and see how far I had traveled since.

And this time I left with just comforters.

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