© 2018, Lisa Weldon, Inc. Author

Oh, the Laundromat

neighborhoods , Uncategorized - October 13, 2011 - 2 Comments

It’s funny how little insignificant scenarios in life can open a whole new world for you.

There’s no washer and dryer in my new house – we left ours in the house when we sold it. I’ve not had time to shop for replacements, so I was forced to find a laundromat to take care of the clothes and linens piling up in the corner of my closet.

It’s safe to say no laundromats exist in this neck of the woods. After driving 4-5 miles, I finally found a lavandería on Buford Highway. For those of you who don’t live in Atlanta, Buford Highway is home to many immigrants – folks from Central America, Asia, Africa, all corners of the world. My dreaded afternoon in the laundromat proved to be quite a delightful experience.

It was a large, cheery, totally spotless laundromat absolutely bustling on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. Many of the clients must have known each other as the chatter was lively. There were game machines for the kids, a pool table for the adults – even a massage chair for those who needed an adjustment.

This was quite the place. At the counter in the corner they made available all sorts of items to make your chore more palatable – all brands of soaps and bleaches, even starch for those fools who still use it. Coat hangers and decorated laundry bags. Every flavor of sodas and chips, Mexican bakery goods and ice cream. More to satisfy my curiosity than hunger, I treated myself to one of their chili popsicles (made right down the street in Chamblee). It listed its ingredients as watermelon, pineapple, cucumber, lemon juice, cherries, salt, sugar . . . and a kick of hot chili peppers. I’ll mark that new culinary experience off my list, one I’ve done but not again. Chili Popsicle

Out of the 20 or so people there, I’d say 15 of them were men. For a chore that more traditionally falls in the hands of the wives, mostly husbands were doing the family’s laundry. I saw one man separating the whites from the darks. { yes, you heard me right } He even buttoned the shirts before folding them with military precision. Let me tell you, there’s something very appealing about a man who’ll do laundry for me. AND do it right.

My gut told me not to leave the premises in fear that my clothes might get stolen. But as I sat there I watched people come and go with no second thoughts, no fear that anyone would do such a thing. I wondered when in my life I had become so distrustful of people. Then I chuckled, wondering who in the world would even want my old sheets and towels?

After loading the car I drove a little further down Buford Highway to the Plaza Fiesta, a Hispanic shopping mall. Folks, inside was pure eye candy. red cowboy bootsRed, rhinestone-studded cowboy boots, cups of freshly sliced mangoes, papaya and kiwi, a soccer store full of neon-colored shoes and jerseys, red glittery floor mats for cars, plus rows and rows of children’s party dresses like I’d never seen before. I got a real chuckle to see how the women’s jeans were displayed. Macy’s merchandises their jeans all folded up in stacks. These guys show theirs, booty first!blue jeans at Plaza Fiesta, a hispanic mall in Atlanta

Mariscolandia Mexican restaurantI wrapped up my day at the food court with one of the best Mexican meals I believe I’ve ever had – shrimp quesadillas at Mariscolandia’s. All for $7.99.

Yep, I think I’ll put off buying a washer and dryer. No telling where a trip back to the laundromat, or lavandería, might lead me next time.





Leave a Comment

CommentLuv badge

2 Comments on “Oh, the Laundromat



Lisa Weldon I’m planning my next city walk. Won't you join me? Click here to subscribe.