Idiots Are Fascinated With My Underwear
So I’m doing laundry the other day when I go to pick up a load from the dryer and I discover an Asian couple watching my clothes go round and round.
They must have been about 45.
I think perhaps I should say something but I have no idea what. Since the cycle isn’t complete yet I just stand behind them and wait. As I wait the man keeps putting his hand on the handle of the dryer.
Not opening it, just putting his hand on it for a few seconds and then removing it. After 3 of these circuits I decide I should speak up before he opens it.
“Those are mine” I say. He ignores me and continues what he’s doing.
“Is there something interesting about my clothes?” I ask. He mutters something to the woman in a different language and continues to ignore me. Still periodically reaching to grasp the handle. It’s not as if it provides any balance or anything, it’s perpendicular to the floor and any pressure would open the dryer. I shrug and share a commiserating look with another patron, at least I’m not the crazy one.
Eventually things come to a head: the drying cycle completes. His hand is now firmly on the handle.
“Excuse me” I say.
Nothing.
“Those are my clothes” I say.
Nothing.
In a slightly louder and exasperated voice, “Can I please get my clothes out so someone else can use the dryer?!”
The woman takes several steps away and looks at me as if I were from Mars. I take a step to where she was just standing so I’m in front of the dryer and beside the man. I turn to him “what’s so fascinating about my clothes?”
Nothing.
“MOVE!” I shout.
“Wei?” he says, hand still firmly on the handle. I gesture for him to move and point at the clothes “Mine!” I shout. I’m rewarded with a blank stare. “Move!” I try again, nothing.
What’s a guy to do? My clothes are wrinkling as this is going on. I use the side of my body to push him aside, kind of like a hip check but not so violent. I take my clothes out and go to leave and he’s standing in my way, blocking the exit. He stares at me and doesn’t move. Completely devoid of patience I command “out of the way! Or did you want another look at my underwear, pervert?”
The other patrons look over, the woman I shared the look with before smiles. Eventually the man stands aside and says “oh, sorry“.
Sure, now he speaks English.
I bet if I accused him of a hate crime or of improperly touching a child he would suddenly become quite eloquent.
