In my life of co-living and Laundromats, I have shared many laundry spaces. Today I waited a little longer than usual to grab my dry goods. "No big deal" in my mind, and assume my faux pas means less due to everyone not working or being retired largely in this zone. Maybe a half hour late and I walk in to see a topless man folding my laundry - folding it, bare hands, laundry, topless. He proceeds to ask me my name and my unit as I try not to just run away. It is one thing to move it to the side, or top of the machine, or whatever surface - folding is not caring, and laundry is a sensitive subject matter, old topless stranger manhandling my goods. Get your mitts off my knits - no shirt no lip service!
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