Stevo

"I don't got no numbers, so I can't call nobody anyway. And I can't pay no bail because rent is $545. It'll have to wait until you get your tax return." I'm trying to ignore the dramatic phone call, but this lady is pretty loud. It seems that someone is in jail and the daughter needs to get her act together. And grandma "don't need to worry about nothing because it's under control." She's "too sick, anyways." Our Laundromat Matriarch of the Day has brought along a baby, Esmeralda, her husband, and "Stevo." The husband was the first person I saw when I walked in. It really couldn't be helped. He's a man leaning on the folding table in front of the entrance. Weighing in at an estimated 300+ lbs, he greeted anyone who walked in with his ass. No, really. His athletic shorts are hanging somewhere just past halfway down his butt, followed by his underwear, giving the world a view of a side of him that I'd rather not see. I'd take a picture for your benefit, but Stevo is beside him facing the laundromat-- eying the other patrons with a psychotic grin that makes me wonder who he has chopped up in his freezer. Stevo is a young adult in what appears to be his late 20's. He may even be Esmeralda's father. He's farkin' creepy regardless. As the husband hikes mercifully hikes his shorts up and makes his way across the laundromat to watch his wife fold clothes, Stevo has a seat to clean his fingernails with a knife. He glances up occasionally to check out the scene. Flashing that unhinged grin, he gets back to work on his fingernails. As I load my dryer, the Matriarch summons Stevo to grab a couple of baskets of laundry. He grins slyly, looking around as he lumbers across the laundromat. As the quartet leaves, it dawns on me that I was prepared to rant about the obnoxiousness of the husband's ass hanging out everywhere. Instead, all I could really do was focus on how god damned creepy Stevo was. Stevo: A laundromat specter whose load is clearly unbalanced...