Wash 'n Wait

There aren't too may laundromats that I'd consider life affirming. That is, in my limited experience. In fact I can only remember one. It was called Soap and Suds, if memory serves, and it wasn't too far from the back gate of Camp Geiger in Jacksonville, North Carolina. You could wash your clothes there and drink beer, and somehow I was able to do that at 18 years of age. There was a Ponderosa Steakhouse down the street with an all-you-care-to-eat salad bar for cheap and also  a theater that ran horror and kung-fu movies continuously 24 hours a day where you could crash for a few hours without shelling out for a hotel or having to go back to base. Sometimes the usher would kick you out, but we were often surly and not worth the hassle, so they mostly let us sleep. Sometimes a creep would approach you in the dark, but you learned how to deal with that. That laundromat was a bright spot though, I had some laughs there. Not like in this one, with it's unmatched broken office chairs for furniture and the sickly green walls, where I'm waiting and barely remembering.