Before I even start my week’s gibberish, let me firstly take this opportunity to thank all the readers of this weekly column, especially those who take the time out of their busy schedules to drop a comment in my inbox elvachatalot@yahoo.com. It really means a lot when I get feedback on my efforts. Thanks for the critique, support and encouragement. Now with that said, off we go.

I usually visit hairdressing salons and corner bars, as these are my two favourite sites that I utilise to catch up on current topical issues and people’s business. The views tendered are generally very animated and sometimes the debates can get heated almost to the point of physical altercation.

Now if you noticed, I had emphasised ‘usually’ because this week I was a ringside viewer of a near brawl and it didn’t happen at or near either of those aforementioned locations. I was not seated at the Manatt Enquiry or any other Parliament hearing for that matter, this incident occurred in, of all places, the Laundromat!

A pow-wow in such a locale came as a shocker to me, because my trips to do laundry are usually brief and done in silence since most patrons just handle their business and leave without engaging in conversation with each other. Sometimes all the machines are fully engaged and not one person is in sight as they have gone off to attend to shopping and other matters while the machines do their duty.

This Saturday I visited my ‘side piece’ Laundromat which is the one utilised when my regular facility is too congested. The machines aren’t as high tech and the price is a bit more, but I was in a hurry so I went about getting my bundles of dirty clothes revived. While I stood talking to the attendant, a smartly dressed lady sailed past us and immediately infused the small space with her expensive perfume. No ‘Morning’ or other pleasantries were exchanged; she just went about loading clothing items into the only operational dryer (the other two have been out of service since the beginning of time) as if she was in her basement at her house. I say basement, because she acted like a snobbish mansion owner. Anyway, as easily as she ignored our presence, the attendant and I went back to our conversation, only for the attendant to jump up startled and shout “Excuse me ma’am, but why are you putting detergent in the dryer?” I spun around to discover the crime scene. The ‘stoosh’ lady was indeed generously sprinkling her jumble of whites, colours and darks with detergent and only stopped when the package was totally emptied.

Several questions popped into my head after I composed myself from raucous laughter; how does one mistake a dryer for a washer? If you don’t know, why not ask for assistance before proceeding? Well, as you can guess it all went downhill from there. Me race go round Tastee go buy a patty and a drinks to catch all the action.

The attendant, still miffed at the ill-mannered ignorant lady’s early behaviour, insisted that she remove her clothing from the dryer along with, and I quote “every grain of detergent” and stooshie was holding her ground, insisting in true uptown fashion that it was a genuine mistake and the attendant was being paid to remove the detergent. It dawned on me in that moment that:

a. I needed to visit the laundry more often.

b. Stooshie looked like she was about to forget her uptown façade and give the attendant a run for her money.

Who was in the wrong? Both were guilty of not asking questions, so it was an equal match up.

I waited patiently for the knock down, drag out fisticuffs, but alas, they just ended up glaring at each other awaiting the arrival of the manager. Booooooring!! I walked away reluctantly having learned an expensive lesson since it cost me a meal, un-dried clothes and wasted minutes that arrogance and ignorance result in a no win situation that could have been better handled had common sense and good manners prevailed.

I’m off in search of more adventure to gladly share with you, so until then, take good care. Laughter is still the best medicine, have you taken your medicine today?