66 - At the laundromat.
joneworlds@mailbox.org

There's  this tiny  laundromat  place across  from
town hall, and I'm in  there the other day to wash
my stuff. It's me in there, and the owner who also
brings  oatmeal   raisin  cookies  which   are  my
favorite,  and this  centaur  and her  kid are  in
there too. Centaurs don't  go through near as much
laundry as you'd think, as they rarely put clothes
on their  horse parts. So it's  mainly just shirts
and   bras  and   stuff   like   that,  and   also
hats. Centaurs  almost always wear hats.  Wool and
cotton caps, mostly. Or acrylic.

I'm  listening to  my radio  while I  wait for  my
laundry machine,  and it just so  happens that I'm
listening to a centaur station. There's a bunch of
them on  AM. Their  favorite kind of  programs are
these  sort of  organized  shouting matches.  It's
basically  two   centaurs  taking   turns  hurling
insults and  cussing at each other.  And every few
minutes there's a bell and  they take a break, and
some  commentator kind  of reviews  and scores  it
like a  round of  boxing.  I  used to  think these
shows were  pretty wacky stuff, but  it's actually
sort of entertaining, once you get used to all the
filthy language. But that's just how most centaurs
connect and  interact, seems  to me. Even  the mom
and her  kid here at  the laundromat are  going at
it. I'm pretty used to it, by now.