I am visiting my parents at their senior living community in Orange County, California. It's a nice, gated complex with live security and lots of conveniences on site. It's also a treasure trove of ideas. There are characters around every corner.
This is not an overheard conversation, but it's too tempting too ignore! I am gathering my Mom's clothes from the laundry room and a man walks in with a spring in his step. He is mid-60s, tan with wavy salt and pepper hair. He wears jean shorts, a green Hawaiian shirt and brown Van's without socks. He has hair on his arms but none on his legs. He smiles at me:
Smooth Legs: Ah, helping out huh?
Me: Yes, my parents don't want to cram machines into their utility closet. But it would be so much easier than this.
Smooth: Yeah, well, I agree with them. Why buy machines when you've got 10 right here? This works out fine. (As he opens a dryer...) Well son of a bitch! Son of a BITCH!
Me: What's the matter?
Smooth: Someone stole my jeans! Son of a bitch! I just bought these jeans. They're Levi's!
Me: You're kidding? What about your other clothes?
Smooth: No, that's all I washed, the jeans. I just wanted to soften them up some. And they're gone!
Me: Are you sure that's the right dryer? (He looks at me, incredulous)
Smooth: Yes I am sure. Look, it's still warm. Look at! Here's my fabric sheet! I'm gonna find that son of a bitch.
Clutching his fabric softener sheet, he pivots left and walks briskly out of sight.