Washing Alone - June 15 2026

 

Washing Alone

June 15 2026

In the laundromat

where I used to cadge quarters

and cash bills,

rub shoulders

with strangers I’d rather avoid,

and kill time

watching through the glass

as my clothes tumbled dry.

At least the clothes

seemed to be having fun.

All our intimates

were on public display.

The torn underwear

I stuffed into the washer

quick as I possibly could,

her bikini bottom

and strappy top

with the lacy red frill,

and the old lady bra

with its big upholstered cups

and underwire support

that resembled a torture device.

No “delicate wash”

for a garment like that,

an old warhorse

that would have been better off shot.

I kept to myself.

Claimed my counter-space

and tried to overlook

the sweaty guy

whom I’ll bet emptied dirty laundry there,

the toddlers

propped on their bottoms

while their mothers folded,

and the drippy nose

of the chain-smoking man

with the dangling ash

who let all of it fall wherever.

And, of course, I remember the fetching young lady

who matter-of-factly undressed

down to a thong and skimpy bra

while the rest of us tried not to watch.

Or not be seen watching.

I could only envy

how little she cared

what others thought.

These days, I wash alone

at home

in a corner of the basement.

There are no poems here

no snapshots of humanity.

No chance

of a random intersection

with someone different

who has a story to share.

And certainly no illusion

of a cute-meet

or unexpected romance.

Not that that ever happened

in the low-rent laundromat

where I kept my head down

and got out fast.

Maybe missed my chance

  . . . who knows?

The title echoes “Bowling Alone”, the landmark paper by the Harvard political scientist Robert Putnam that highlighted the increasing social isolation of modern America, where the decline in civic engagement and social capital is mirrored in the decline in leagues and memberships. His observation was the precursor to what today is increasingly being called “the loneliness epidemic”.  

Of course, being alone and being lonely are two different things. But in both states, the chance of a serendipitous connection is far less than being out and about and socially engaged. Ad well as the good poem or short story that comes from it.