Though I can't say for certain, I think the attendant at the laundromat might have been investigating at least. Which I would welcome of course (I really don't get out much), though one still ought to be skeptical.
Anyhow, why am I suspicious?
Well, firstly, she kind of gave me an odd look.
Not an offensive gaze, mind you; not a look of revulsion, thankfully. Just not quite the put-on Hollywood bs "come hither" type of look either. Probably a genuine look of scrutiny (possibly I just look odd myself?). In other words: the look of someone studying something else without putting on airs about it. I sort of caught her doing it though.
As for me: I was just sitting on a bench listening to music while waiting for my washed/wet clothes, to transfer them to a clothes dryer. And I would never claim to have dressed spectacularly for the laundromat either! (Certainly wasn't wearing a tuxedo there.) Nope. Just jeans and a shirt.
In fact, I would have just dropped the subject entirely in my own mind. But then two other things happened.
#1. Eventually, my clothes were dry; and I proceeded to fold them, naturally (like a human does). I was closer to the back of the establishment though, taking full advantage of the open space and less competition for getting this done. She was cleaning up for the night.
At this point, she seemed to kind of go out of her way to get close. In fact, she crouched right next to me. Presumably, to pick up some lint from the floor, as there's used dryer sheets and strings everywhere, normally.
Same sort of pensive state again. Only this time, much closer and just below crotch level no less. And right next to the bin and table of my unfolded laundry.
What's on the table, you ask? Well, it just so happens: one of the three or fours socks I normally take care of business with, shall we say. Wasn't by design either, I swear; just randomly placed on the edge, while I carefully folded shirts straight out of the dryer.
So, basically: it would seem she got in real close to inspect, but then also wound up discovering the personal effects of one evidently sad/lonely dude.
#2. For the rest of my visit, she would periodically stare at the pile of my folded underwear--yes I fold it--and compliment me on how well I did so. No joke.
Of course, that could just portend a later invitation to work there--since I got mad Felix Unger skills apparently! But I'm honestly hoping, next time, she outright asks to fool around. Frankly, that would be nice.
