Laundry

Jesse hated doing the laundry. He despised it, loathed it, would wear the same shirt two days in a row, just to avoid the pile for one more day.

Part of the problem was the whole Laundromat issue. He truly felt that coin-washes were filled with losers, with the scum of society who were either too poor to afford their own machine, or two transient to keep one. This attitude stemmed from his upbringing, in an upper-middle-class family, for whom the word "want" never entered their vocabulary. He had grown up assuming this would also be his future lifestyle. However, his parents died, suddenly, without insurance, and to his surprise, with a massive reverse mortgage against their home that left him with virtually nothing.

Then, the infamous divorce, where his trophy wife decided she wanted to be something, or do something, or whatever the hell it was that she said she wanted. After the lawyers were through with him, they sent him an invoice for their services that would have killed a small animal if left opened on a counter. Oh, and also a schedule of monthly payments he had to pay to her, to make sure she stayed in the life she had grown accustomed.

Life sucked for Jesse.

And so, he found himself in the Laundromat, spending another Tuesday evening waiting for his clothes to finish in the dryer so he could slink out and hope to God that no one he actually knew would see him here.