VII.A Chapter by Brittany
I wonder if the hummidity in the Coin-Op has anything to do with the tanning rooms. Past the dryers are two doors, seperated by a long 'folding table'. On the right, Women get the 'Bahama Room' while on the left, the 'Acapulco Room' is reserved for the men.
I can resist anything except the temptation to go to Acapulco.
Seven quarters buys me 32 minutes of drying time. This doesn't bug me. The dryers have stainless-steel faces, embedded in a light-blue wall. On this wall, white poofs are sponged haphazardly.
(Clouds, maybe.
Soap suds, more logically.
Either one works. They both soothe me.)
I secretly enjoy watching my clothes spin through the glass. The pinging sound of my zippers hitting the dryer wall.
Getting bored and finding bravery, I wonder over to the door on the left.
I attempt to get into Acapulco. But...Acapulco is locked. This feels like a low-brow Mexican joke. Or a newspaper headline I had once mis-interpreted:
"Interracial Hemorrhaging".
I laugh out loud and immediately regret it.
(29 minutes left to dry)
© 2010 BrittanyReviews
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2 Reviews Added on May 29, 2010 Last Updated on May 29, 2010 AuthorBrittanyMTAboutI don't know me. And, you don't know you. We fit so good together 'cause I know you like I know myself. more..Writing
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