Ideal Interaction

I had one of those awkward shared laundry facility experiences the other night. The kind where you look at the clock and leap up in a slight panic because you fear you're really burning up a fellow laundry doer right at this very moment. And sure enough, I entered the room and saw both of my dry loads, neatly placed on top of both dryers. Then I saw a male neighbor, one who I've never seen before, standing there, pressing the ON switch to his load. It's awkward. It's awkward because you both feel like jerks. I'm the jerk because I let my dry clothes sit in the dryers, unfetched, leaving him with no other choice but to reach in and pull out a stranger's clothing, a stranger's intimates. His heart was probably racing, hoping to avoid the confrontation. And he feels like a jerk because he knows I know he touched my underwear and now knows what size jeans I wear. I apologized. He apologized. He said something about that's just the way it is, no big deal. He hesitated, seemingly wanting to fold my laundry for a second, or at least arrange it better. It was the most human and perfect interaction. This is how people should treat each other. With a smile and a shrug. He left. One of his socks peaked out from the dryer door. Glancing back to make sure I was alone, I quickly opened the door and shooed him back inside.

The Poopsmith

I ride my bicycle along the narrow neighborhood streets of Venice, CA to work every morning. Last Tuesday while en route I witnessed a man, tasked with scooping up poop from a recreational field, smiling and singing. It was a stellar reminder that you are ultimately responsible for your happiness.