My washing machine is outside in one of my many tumbledown sheds. I'm not sure which one because it's been a while since I last used it. The rigmarole involved in setting it up is the problem. It isn't simply a case of loading it up and switching it on. There is a process to go through involving extension cables and hosepipes and screw on fittings. Having done all that there is then a long wait for it to do it's work and don't even mention getting the washing dry, particularly with all the damp dreary weather that we get in England these days. I'm not sure why it rains so much these days, but I suspect the Common Market, the European Union, and too many foreigners being allowed in.
Being realistic about it, all the extra people who have taken up residence in Great Britain weigh an awful lot, this must be causing the land to sink, thereby causing the sea levels to rise, which then adds to all the water in the atmosphere. Hence more rain. You know it makes sense. Not only that but nature has to provide drinking water for all these extra people. Not to mention the amount needed to flush all the extra toilets!
So what I do is: I take my washing to the launderette! It only takes twenty five minutes in one of their machines to wash everything and then half an hour to dry it all. Three quid, that's all it costs. While it's washing I take Sadie the German Shepherd for a walk in the park. While it's tumble drying I have a read of the newspaper.
Naturally if there happens to be an attractive woman in the launderette, I will give reading the paper a miss, and spend some time chatting to her. Trying to find out if she is single or available. In the case of a married woman I will attempt to find out if she is bored with married life, and if so is she ready to take a lover! Perhaps an older more sexually experienced man to add some spice to her humdrum life.
My favourite launderette chatting up technique is the one where I pretend to be absolutely hopeless at working the machine. They love to see a man helpless. This method rarely fails. In the unlikely event that it does, my next technique is to allow myself to get into a state of complete chaos when folding sheets. Help is always forthcoming, and when they see my beautiful black satin sheets, they become greatly aroused. Which is completely understandable.
Today there was an attractive woman there when I went in. She gave me a great big smile too. Result I thought to myself, and immediately put on my best, I'm totally helpless in this environment face.
"Hallo John," she said.
Oh blimey I thought, she knows me. I smiled back at her, trying to recall who she was. There was something vaguely familiar about her, but other than that nothing. I decided to be honest and admit I didn't know who she was. Woman love honesty in a man.
"I'm so sorry," I said, " but the thing is, I have just got back from a secret government mission during which I suffered a knock to the head, and I'm afraid I can't recall how we know each other."
"You did my portrait a few years ago," she reminded me.
It came back to me then. "Oh yes, I remember now, but I can't remember your name. It's quite an unusual name I think." I spent a few seconds trying to remember it, but it wouldn't come.
"It's Carmel," she said, "Please don't call me camel, I might get the hump."
"Of course it is," I said. "How on earth could I have forgotten and you being so pretty too?"
She smiled at bit more at my remark and said, "Flattery will get you anywhere."
She told me that the portrait I did was hanging on her living room wall, which I thought was nice. Then she ruined things by saying none of her friends thought it looked like her, and in fact she didn't think I'd done her justice and that I must have been having a bad day when I painted it. But she kept it on the wall because she supposed it was a work of art anyway.
Well that was a bit of a downer, but at least she hadn't destroyed the painting, so I decided to let the hurtful remark go. We then got on to talking about computers. I told her how much I enjoyed having a computer these last couple of years, having once said I would never have one. I told her about this blog and how much I enjoyed writing it. Her reaction was that she thought it all sounded like a complete waste of time and that I must lead a very sad life!
By this time I had realised that I was talking to a very negative person, and began to see her in a different light. She went from being an attractive woman to a complete ugly old cow in the space of just a few sentences. I noticed that she had very thin lips and thin hair to match, and a sharp hatchet face that looked as though she sucked a lot of lemons. This is why the portrait didn't look like her. I had obviously painted what I saw the first time we met.
Luckily my washing was dry by now and I didn't have to talk to her any more. She wanted to help me fold my black satin sheets, but I was determined not to let her anywhere near them. No lady, you ruined any chance of getting between my sheets!
Of course I behaved like a proper gentleman, and said goodbye politely as I left, "Nice to have met you again Camel!"
Three quid in the launderette. Worth every penny. You meet all sorts in there.
PS I don't really have black satin sheets. Sorry to disappoint.