The excitement I call my life

So today I realized that the person in my life with whom I have shared the most intimate moments in the last 7 months is the Mexican woman who works in the laundromat. I don't know her name or what her situation in life is, but I do know that I have folded my underwear in front of her. That's something that I have done in front of a select few people in my life. My mom, my missionary companions, peeping toms as the case may be. It's an exclusive bunch.

We are not so intimate that I let her actually fold my laundry, but she's seen me do it. If there is a more accurate measure of intimacy, I don't know what it is. We are so close that I saw her in the street walking her dog once. Kind of awkward to meet her out of context, of course, half expecting her to ask me about my underwear.

I am afraid that she will some day confront me about overloading the washers (I try to get my money's worth at $2.50 a pop) or about putting my wool blend pants in the dryer. Or the fact that I put my detergent in at the beginning of the cycle as opposed to waiting after the prewash just because I don't want to wait around. Or about occasionally mixing my lights and darks/reds and whites etc. You know, all the classic laundry faux pas. I'm sure she would if she could speak English or if I could speak Mexican.

My dream is to some day be more intimate with a woman than I am with my stocky Mexican laundry mat attendant. Preferably someone who speaks the same language as I do.