Crackhead Ish

Last week Friday, I had what I like to consider a 'Crackhead Encounter'.  It was with the woman who works at the laundromat where I drop my clothes off to be washed.  She has been handling my clothes for awhile now.  I refer to her by her first name and make a point of being friendly even though she is usually irritated at the sight of me walking in with yet another load for her to have to clean.  Plus, I put anything I want cleaned in my laundry bag, so she has had the pleasure of sorting through my not-so-clean undies.  But hey, I'm paying you to do that, so who cares?  I am used to her telling me my clothes won't be ready until tomorrow, when the process should take no more than a day.  I just drop the clothes off, pay and keep it moving.

On this particular morning as I walk in, she starts whining about breakfast and medicine and some random shit, I cannot even make out.  As I walked to the counter with my large and cumbersome laundry bag, I ask the other washerwoman what she was saying.  That woman just shakes her head and says, "I don't know, she crazy."  All the while, my 'friend' is still whining and going on about whatever.  She refers to me by my last name and tries looking me up with someone else's first name.  "That's not me".  "I'm sorry, I know your last name, I just forgot your first name".  She addresses me directly this time, so I can hear her plea.  Here it is:  "I got all this laundry to do.  I ain't had nothing to eat and I didn't take my diabetes medicine today.  You gotta help me out.  Can you at least buy me breakfast?"  Did I mention I was running late for work?  This was not a good time to test me.  I was not in a bad mood, but she pissed me off with her bold assumption.  Yes, I have tipped her before when she has washed my clothes in the past, but that stopped when she bleached more than her share of my tops.  Although it has only happened about three times, I feel that quota has been met.  But you don't ask for your tip.  Especially from someone whose name you cannot remember.  You don't count on money that  isn't yours yet.  Furthermore, I don't like people trying to work me over and play on my sensibilities.  She sounded like a straight up crackhead.

I told her I didn't have cash and pumped out of there, headed to work.  The nerve...