Book of Jamez

55 y/o malcontent, something of a writer

Tag: clothing

  • Loads

    The apartment complex where I live has three separate laundry facilities – the one closest to me is not far so hefting a basket down there to wash isn’t a big deal. The machines can all be used with coins OR credit cards, which I really like. One heaping basket of clothes is usually two loads of laundry – sure i could mix it all together but I separate lights and darks (I’m a clothes racist and believe in segregation). I’d still prefer to have a washer and dryer in the unit, but this works, I can always find two machines next to one another.

    This particular time was no different than the rest – laundry in the basket, detergent capsules on top. As I approached I could see two other people in the facility, nothing new there. I went in and said hi to the person closest to the door – she just glanced and me warily and then towards the other person there. I looked back there and didn’t think anything of it and said hello to him as well. As I was loading the washing machines I noticed the woman kept looking past me at the guy in the back, so I took a better look at him.

    The man was really skinny, with a short hair cut. He was wearing a blue short sleeved shirt and tan shorts with flip flops. His eyes were hooded and he wasn’t there. Very slowly, slow-motion like,  he would pick up a piece of clothing, hold it to his chest an fold it. I think I loaded two washing machines in the time it took him to fold that one piece of clothing. He was shaking as he moved and every once in a while I’d hear a loud “sniff”.

    “None of my business” I thought and proceeded to pay for the machines, set the timer on my phone and headed back to my apartment. But the man gnawed at my thoughts on the way back – he must have been on something, maybe he has mental issues – again, none of my business was the thought that rose to the top.

    When the timer went off I headed back to start the drying cycle, thankful that the odd one would be gone, but as I approached I could see he was still there in the back of the room, his basket where it was when I left. As I approached I saw he was still moving at a snails pace, even the simplest of motions.

    It wasn’t until I was on my way out that I noticed the clothes he was folding were dirty. I could see dirt, red stains and what I hadn’t noticed before was the smell from back there – a mildewy scent wafted from that side of the room.

    This was several months ago now, and I’ve not seen that guy in there since. But I wonder what’s become of him sometimes and what he was on. A small part of me wonders if he was enjoying himself – it was hard to tell what he was feeling when I would look at him.

  • Personal Perceptions

    A lot of people have self-image issues. Me too. I can look in the mirror on a given day and see reality has set in.  The image of me that I have in my mind is of a 12 year old boy. Skinny, 70s haircut (in the early 80s), bell bottom or high water pants, hand-me-down shirt, tobacco stains on my teeth and fingers. It’s not reality, but it’s the main psychic self image that I project, why? I have no idea. But I rarely think of myself in any other way. The crows feet around my eyes, the gray hair in my facial hair (or even more disturbing the first few times – gray pubic hairs – Oh no!) and on my head, the sagging here or the sagging there… It’s not just the aging thing – it’s comparing ourselves to the outside world or the world of Hollywood. Yeah, that’s a wise move for mental health, comparing yourself to celebrities.

    On Wednesday I dressed up for work, normally I wear jeans and a t-shirt. I had a few errands to run and later would be shopping for a suit at Macy’s so wanted a white shirt on to get the full effect of the image. On the way to the office I had to make a couple of stops, both work related, and was complimented on how I looked by a few different people and even had a few give me the once over. I had my friend take this photo the same day.    While suit shopping after I had left the office two guys flirted with me at Macy’s, and Al at Annie’s was almost in a tizzy and said I looked great – my standard response there is “so you’re saying I look like crap every other day?” Al didn’t take the bait, but said you normally just come in looking “usual”. Hmm, I thought….

    When I had a chance to upload the photo to the iMac I took a look at it and saw all the things that everyone else missed. I see the belly that makes me look a bit pregnant,  a gap in-between my teeth that makes me look rural, the receding gray hairline, and a wrinkly shirt. I don’t usually smile in photos so hate this one just like all the other ones that I smile in. That’s just how I perceive me – I have a poor self body image, so do a lot of folks.

    I went so far as to put this photo on a few online dating sites I frequent and a lot of guys had very nice complimentary things to say about it, a few people who have seen photos I like of myself said they like this photo best – my perception is rarely reality, or maybe these guys have been doing a lot of hallucinatory drugs or losing their vision – I vote for the later.

    I have a friend who is the skinniest person I know who thinks she is fat on occasions, works out constantly and guys cruise her all the time, maybe her self image is of the girl she used to be. I have a friend who’s a big sexy black guy that so self conscious about his body that he wont come to Zumba with me as he thinks folks will not want to see him there – he’s not a freak show, he’s a big sexy guy (lose weight or don’t, you’ll still be sexy), but maybe he can’t get past his self-image – I can’t, so who am I to judge. Yet another friend is trying to grow her hair out after chemo took it all last year, it’s a slow process and the hair is having a mind of it’s own, this frustrates her a lot, but her hair is such a small part of the whole package of her and those of us that know her think she looks great all the time – however I still give her a hard time about the hair, cause I love the reaction.

    We are who we are, whether we can see it in the mirror or our minds eye or not. Should we be healthy, I guess… but even then that may not change how we view ourselves. So I might be getting a belly, might have a gap in my teeth, I certainly have gray hair all over the place. I am who I am, I can change some things about that sure, but I’m probably always going to look inside of myself and see the skinny kid with the welfare glasses and paisley shirt.