Laundromat

I wouldn't have even been in the fucking laundry room downstairs if it wasn't for George fucking Bush.

Or was it Bill fucking Clinton?

It could be that B. fucking Obama guy's idea of taking what I knew damned good and well was MY money and giving it to the fucking fat cat bankers that caused the goddamn problem in the first place?

That doesn't matter, I never did figure out who to blame for sure, I just knew that somebody fucked up the works for me.

Thirty plus long years I made my house payments, got the thing paid for too, all mine. At the same time I invested in growth funds, nice solid one step at a time increase in value. Regular as clockwork, I followed the rule of buying into averages.

While all that was going on, I watched high tech funds explode in value, several hundred times the gains I made. Then I got to giggle as the bottom fell out, my stuff just pegged right along, 4-6% every year, regular as clockwork.

Hell, I was a fucking genius, no doubt about that.

House paid for, 500K in the funds, I could retire.

By the time I actually did sell it was $100K left. My house that I bought for $129,500 that grew in value to $300,000 and probably more was worth $89,500 and the real estate guy told me that was good?

I had to sell it, I couldn't pay the damned property taxes and still eat, not without drawing down principal.

Someone explain to me how a house can decrease in value by about 70% but the fucking property taxes go UP by damn near double?

Just fuck. A lifetime of effort, savings, hard work all shot to shit in about 60 fucking days!

So getting the nice 5-6% return on my entire lifetime accumulation of a half million bucks became 1% of $100,000, which is less than 100 bucks per month?

Great. With my $900 per month in Social Security I suppose I was better off than some, but not by much.

I sold the house, clearing almost 70 grand. I put that into a money market account, now with everything I had almost $1100 per month to live on. That was a far cry from the almost four grand I had counted on.

I took it all in stride, nothing I could do about it. I rented an apartment, it was two bedrooms and on the 4th floor, no elevator.

Counting the pennies, I could eat at least.

Downstairs in the basement were the washing machines, each one with the little slide that took quarters to make them run. I saved up until everything I owned was dirty and washed everything at once, to save the precious quarters.

That would be fine but about half the time the coin box was yanked out of them and they were broken down. Then is was call the landlord, listen to him swear, then wait until the old black guy came by and fixed them.

Then it was start all over, within two weeks someone would break them again.

I was suspicious, the old black guy sure seemed to be happy as a clam in butter sauce as he reattached the coin boxes. There was always one machine left that still worked. Since it was an $18 taxicab ride to the next nearest laundromat, I was thinking the old guy broke into them himself, then got paid to fix them.

More than once I saw him down there washing his clothes, too.

Always happy.

Oh, well. Nothing I could do about that, either.

I was headed down the stairs, carrying my basket of clothes. It was heavy, I had to stop at each landing to catch my breath, it's hell to be coming up on 66 years old.

Finally I got to the basement, I could hear one of the machines running, thank God! I walked in and sat down my basket, then stood there resting my old legs for a moment.

Looking up, I spotted her.

A young woman sat there, a dirty looking blanket wrapped snugly around herself. She was eyeing me with suspicion.

"Hello!" I said, giving her my very best grandfatherly smile. She seemed to relax a little, but still looked wary.

I looked at the machine fartherest away from her, figuring to give her some space.

The fucking coin box hung at a crazy angle. Same with the one next to it, and the one next to her. The only one working was the one she was using.

I sighed and sat down to wait.

"Some guy ran out when I came in, I think he was breaking into the machines." She told me.

"Happens all the time." I muttered.

"Do you live here?" She asked, taking another tug at the blanket.

"Yea, I am in 403." I said.

"I just moved into number 4 yesterday."

"Oh." That pissed me off, a ground floor unit? I had a standing request for a ground floor unit, the fucking landlord was supposed to call me.

Fat chance of that. Then I realized that number 4 was the tiny little studio in the corner, no way could I live there anyway.

Her machine shut off. She sat there, looking at me. I looked right back, she didn't move.

I waited, the silence was overwhelming. I wanted to use the fucking machine and she just sat there.

"Are you going to use the dryer, are you done?" I asked her finally.

"I can't. I need to...all my clothes are in the machine." She looked extremely uncomfortable.

"Would you like me to move them over for you?" I asked her, not wanting to leave because sure as hell if I did someone would come in and take my place in line.

"Would you? That would be so nice." She smiled, it hit me that when she smiled she actually looked a bit pretty.

"I'm Dan." I told her, getting up and opening the lid on the machine.

"Deedee, it's short for Denise." She said, as I pulled out first a pair of blue jeans, then a blouse. I shook those out, there was a pair of socks and a bra that had obviously seen better days. There was a flimsy pair of once white panties, too, and that was it. They looked clean but washing them with blue jeans?

"Is this everything?" I asked, a little surprised. It looked like she was washing the clothes she was wearing, which explained her not wanting to get up with me there.

"Yes, that is all I have." She said, her face flushing.

I moved the clothes over to the dryer, thinking they should have been seperated but that would mean more quarters.

I understood perfectly about the quarters. I reached in my pocket and fed the machine, pushed the slide and the dryer started.

Then I loaded the washing machine, stopping a couple of times to push down on the clothes so I could get all of them in there.

Normally I would go back upstairs, but she was still sitting there. I now figured she was naked under the blanket, my protective urge kicked in.

"Do you want me to stay here with you? I can turn my back when you get dressed." I said, not wanting to give her the wrong idea.

"Yes, thank you sir."

"Dan." I said.

"Yes...Dan. Thank you."

I sat down, we started to talk. She had worked in an office, but gotten laid off. When she couldn't pay her apartment rent at her former place, they kicked her out and put all of her things in storage. She had no money to pay the storage, so she ended up living in her car until they came and took that, too.

She found a government agency, section 8, and she ended up here. I told her my story, it wasn't a heck of a lot better. She gave me a sad look.

"We work so hard and try so hard and it's like everything the government does makes it worse." She said.

My feelings exactly. I started to open my mouth to go off into one of my anti government tirades, but the dryer shut off. I got up and retrieved her clothes, shook then out. They felt nice and dry, still warm to the touch. I folded them into a stack and handed them to her.

She reached out to take them, the blanket slipped and one smallish breast slid into view, confirming my suspicion that she was naked under the big blanket. She quickly clutched the clothes to her upper body to hide herself.

"I am sorry." She said.

"Don't worry about it, I am just an old man, I have seen pretty girls before."

She beamed at that, carefully tugging the blanket back over herself.

"I need to put these on." She looked at me expectantly.

Just then a middle aged couple came in, looked at the machines and the one in use, then they sat down. They had two huge baskets of clothes with them.

"Hey, should I maybe hold the blanket up for you?" I told her.

"OK. You won't peek?"

"No, I won't peek." I laughed. She gave me a big smile and stood up, turning her back. I carefully took the big blanket and held it up high for her.

She was dressed in seconds, then she turned and took the blanket. She walked over and sat down.

"I need to wash this, too." She told me.

"Want to use one of mine? I have extras." I told her on impulse. I started loading the dryer.

"Oh. That would be nice, this is the only one I have and it's so dirty." I sat down next to her. Her hair was dishwater blond, stringy looking. She had no makeup at all. I could smell a hint of what I thought might be Lavender?

We chatted for a half hour as the other couple sat waiting for the washer to finish, just then the black guy came in and started fixing the machines.

Hell, I didn't even have to call the landlord this time.

I finished up my load, carried it back upstairs. I retrieved one of my soft downy bed covers, thinking it would be nice and warm for her. I went back downstairs and knocked on her door.

"Come on in." She smiled, holding the door for me. I looked around her apartment, there was nothing. The dirty blanket was carefully folded over against the wall, there was a table and two chairs, a stove and a fridge.

That was it.

I sat in one of the chairs, she went into the kitchen and came back with two glasses of Koolaid.

"Sorry, this is all I have." She told me.

"It's fine, thanks." We sat and chatted for several hours, she basically unloaded on me, everything that had happened to her. By the time I left I was feeling a lot better about my own situation.

Each day I would go down to check on her, I enjoyed talking to her. She was bright, easy to talk to. A couple of times I took along sandwiches, once I mentioned I liked Chess and she said she did too so I took my board down.

She whipped my ass, and rather easily, a surprise to me. I had thought I was pretty good at Chess.

A few days later I ran into her in the lobby, I was headed out to grab a burger so I asked her if she would like to come along.

"Sure!" She answered. I had a feeling she wasn't likely to turn down a chance at some food.

I watched as she ate ravenously. On the way back we passed a second hand store. She stopped to look in. They had a bed in there that had one of those wooden press together frames with a huge mirror in the headboard. Even the mattress and springs looked to be in great shape, I looked at the tag and it read sold.

"I have been making payments, I still owe them $30.00." She told me.

"I was hoping I could find a place to live by the time I got it paid for, so next month when I get my check....."

I paid that for her, she protested some but not a lot. I had seen her blanket piled in the corner.

It took us all of the rest of that day to drag the thing back in pieces, then assemble it. It did overwhelm the room of the small studio apartment.

I laughed hilariously when she hopped up on it and bounced up and down, delighted. Deedee was beginning to be someone I looked forward to being around, she was delighted with the smallest things.

She made me feel younger if that makes any sense at all.

"Well, I guess I best get going, maybe I will see you tomorrow or the next day?" I told her, getting up.

She bounced off the bed onto the floor, then piled into my arms and hugged me.

"Danny, thank you! You are so nice to me, it just makes everything seem like it will all be OK when you are here." She had me in almost a death grip.

That felt rather nice, to be honest. It had been many years since I had a woman, any woman in my arms. Then she turned up her face, it was like she was asking for a kiss, so I kissed her.

For a moment, it was just that, a kiss. Then she pushed up on tiptoe and it became more urgent. Somehow we ended up on the bed, she pushed on me until I rolled over on my back, then she got on top of me and began to kiss me some more.

My shirt was unbuttoned, both of her palms rubbing up and down my chest, she reached down and tugged at my belt. In seconds she had me freed, both hands wrapped around my swiftly growing erection.

Then she hopped off the bed, standing there looking at me. I looked back, unsure at the moment, thinking she just got carried away.

Deedee reached over her shoulders in that motion that only women seem to be able to do, in one pull she was naked to the waist. Her breasts were tiny, her body was rail thin. Reaching down, she tugged at her waist and her jeans fell to the floor, she stepped out of them.

There wasn't an ounce of fat on her, her ribs actually showed. Her hips looked to be barely larger than her waist. There was an unkempt tangle of pubic hair, she sure didn't bother to trim it any.

I looked her up and down with a smile, realizing just how painfully young she was.

"Am I all right?" She asked. That sounded strange to me. She stood there completely naked, almost like she expected me to find something wrong?

"You are just fine!" I told her.

"I had a dream last night of making love with you." She said, sliding up and straddling my chest.

I didn't know what to say, this had all caught me completely by surprise. I did know I was hard as I ever got, all six inches of me stuck straight up.

"Well? Will you?"

She was asking me if I would make love to her, sitting astride my chest completely naked except for her socks.

I couldn't help it, I started to laugh.

"What's so fucking funny?" She asked in a teasing tone, her palms flat on my chest, leaning forward to look at me.

"You don't have a stitch on, you are sitting there with me so hard it is about the break and you are asking permission?" I grinned.

She smiled and lifted up, reaching between her legs with both hands to guide me as she sat down on me.

"How's that?" She asked.

"That feels pretty nice!"

She lifted up and dropped back down on me.

"And how is that?" She said, stopping again. That time she reached behind her back to cradle my balls.

"Oh, God." I muttered.

I began to thrust, in seconds she fell into time with me. My body wanted to blast off instantly, I fought that with every fiber of my being. Her tiny little A sized breasts were bouncing, I reached up to fondle them, getting a sigh from her. Then she began to convulse, leaning forward until she was mashed against me.

"Damn I needed that, it's been so long." She told me as she lay against my side.

"Been a long time for me too, Deedee." I said.

"How long?" She asked. Now she had rolled up higher, she was licking my nipple with the tip of her tongue, rolling the other one between her fingertips. Lord that that feel good, it made my head swim.

"Since my wife and I...I guess 10 years or so." I didn't want to talk about my ex wife much, that had turned out to be a set back.

"I had a boyfriend, he worked in my office. But he was the reason I got....." Her voice trailed off.

"This is strange honey, I am old enough to be your grandfather."

"I don't give a damn, that was fun. I like you." She snuggled up even tighter.

It was just a few weeks later, Deedee moved into my apartment with me. For one thing, my apartment was far larger, had a bedroom and much larger kitchen, and furniture. I did have to take my old bed apart and move it to the spare bedroom, Deedee insisted on having hers. It took us another entire day to move it upstairs and set it up.

Then she also insisted on trying it out again, we spent a couple of hours checking the box springs for squeaks.

This was amazing and I would have never even dreamed that I would end up living with a 20 year old girl, not at my age. But Deedee seemed to be happy, so I figured as long as she was, kick back and enjoy it.

She also put on some weight, she actually began to grow some breasts and her hips filled out. I knew that for several months she had lived where she could and how she could, and that even food had been a daily problem.

I understood that, I was seeing it everywhere, the sad faces with dark eyes we passed daily out on the streets.

It didn't take long before Deedee was doing the shopping, she was also a surprisingly good cook. Then one day she handed me the mail, there was the usual light bill and phone bill, we also had a small cable bill for the TV.

I asked her to go ahead and make out the checks and I would sign them, she did that. I signed them and mailed them off. The next month was the same, that was a pain in the ass so I put her name on my checking account so she could sign them herself. I also made her a signer on my money market account so she could move money over to cover the checks.

That was easier, for a couple of months things went so smoothly that I just got used to it. We took long walks, once in awhile we went out to eat at the little cafe down the street. Everyone was used to us by now, the strange looks we got at first when the gray haired old man and the barely out of her teens young woman came in holding hands faded.

Then one day Deedee asked me if we could get a car, I didn't own one at the time. A vehicle wasn't exactly in the budget, and I told her so.

"But if we had a car, I can maybe find a job? That way we can start saving some." She snuggled up to me and kissed me.

"You don't really need to work." I told her.

"I think I might have to, if they find out I am not living by myself they will cut off my checks."

I nodded. There was that, we had been playing the government dole game for quite awhile.

It didn't take long, we found an old Honda that was in fair shape and ran good. No way could we afford to insure it, so I just bought insurance to get the card for the glovebox, cancelled it. The refund check arrived in a couple of weeks.

At least if we got stopped by the cops we had something to show them. More little shortcut games.

The surprise was when Deedee came home, she told me she had found a job working as a forms typist for a lawyer's office. She was all excited about that, so excited we ended up making love all over the house. By now she had blossomed, she had several nice outfits, she used a hint of makeup.

I was amazed at the transformation in just a few short months, and pleased because her body felt so good to me. She was always eager to make love, we did it a lot.

For a few weeks Deedee got up each morning and dressed for work. She came home around 6 PM each evening, regular as clockwork.

How lucky can an old man be? A beautiful young woman, happy and eager for sex. Deedee seemed to be pleased with me, pleased with her life. Things were really going smoothly. I saw her check one Friday evening, it wasn't huge but it was sure going to help.

The next Monday evening she didn't come home.

By around 10 PM I was in a panic. I couldn't call the office where she worked, they were closed. I called the local hospitals, called the police department, nothing.

The next day I called her work, she wasn't there. I went down to file a missing persons report. The police officer listened to my story and got an expression on his face like he knew fucking something I didn't?

"We will see what we can do." He said, reaching for his coffee cup.

Hell, all I could think of were the horror stories, how young women were grabbed in parking lots, dragged off and raped, perhaps even killed.

MY Deedee, lying out there dead in the woods somewhere? The thought tormented me.

By the 3rd evening I was a shambles of myself. Deedee had simply vanished off the face of the Earth, no sign of her, no sign of the car, nothing.

My phone rang the morning of the 6th day, it was someone from the landlord. She told me the check had been returned unpaid.

"That is impossible, I have at least $3000.00 in my checking account." I told her.