Yesterday, I went into the laundromat to collect my display. A young woman (girl?) I'd never seen before was behind the counter -- truly, there seems to be a new employee every time I walk in. I explained to her that the board was mine and that I was taking it. The notebook was gone. I asked when Maria would be in and she told me that Maria would be working all day tomorrow. The board had two lines of poetry:
Give help to the world and judge police
help crime but explode people
Today, I went in to the laundromat in search of Maria. Maria was dialing a phone number, with some relatives or co-workers around her. She saw me.
"You took it," she said.
"Yes, I know, but I just wanted to give you this to thank you for helping me. I really appreciate it." I gave her a box of Whitman's chocolates. I am not sure why I felt I had to do that, but I wanted to. She made this project work, really -- without the laundromat, I wouldn't have had much at all. And it's corny, but I felt kind of like I got to know her. I am not even sure how or if I'm imagining that.
"Oh, thank you," she said, still with the phone to her ear.
As I was leaving, she yelled something out to me.
"Sorry, what?" I said, turning around.
"Good luck," she replied.
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