Mechanic Sandwhich

My new favorite place in all the world is the Laundromat at the corner of Seventh and Bradshaw. No, I’m not some pervert that gets off while I’m fluffing and folding ... or maybe I am?

For the last three weeks straight I’ve been sitting looking out the front windows of the joint, pretending to read the newspaper while my fine washables wash. But really I’m covertly peering across the street to the newly opened mechanic shop. It has no name, no sign, but man is it busy. The two bays of the garage are never empty, and the two guys that work there never stop as they double team the broke-down cars.

And that’s the reason I sit there: to watch these two shirtless hotties work.