The Laundry Room

When I moved across country, I joined an apartment complex that offered a regular after work exercise class. This small group of university students, grad students and young housewives accepted me into their midst without much question, as I was young and trim, but not terribly fit.

As this was a mountainous area, there were any number of hiking trails and opportunities to climb or hike and get fit. But first, we had to get in shape with some regular calisthenics for almost an hour each M-W-F. On Tu-Th, we would go walking or hiking up a nearby trail.

Slowly but surely, I started getting in shape, my 'gludes' became more rounded, and I was getting into shape with the aerobic exercises.

But the fly in the ointment was one mouthy little grad student. This blonde was sharp, bright and very outgoing. But I found her sense of humor to be a bit catty. She just rubbed me the wrong way, so I avoided coming in conflict with her. I'm certain that she wasn't interested in me, as I was wearing a wedding ring and made no overtures to her nor anyone else.

One day when she came into the class, she complained that this workout was going to be a chore...she complained that she couldn't have gotten much sleep last night...she was kept awake by the couple who live upstairs above her. She commented that she swears that they must have a trampoline, for all the noise that she hears all the time. She smiled like a Cheshire cat as she waited to see how many got her point.

I wasn't quite sure, but knew I didn't care for her tone. I decided to play dumb. I asked, "How do you know that it's a trampoline?" and then waited for her to explain. The smile left her face and she changed the topic.

The next week she came into class and gossiped about the apartment complex help.
"Did you hear? They fired the handyman," she crowed. "It turns out that he had been stealing underthings from women's laundry loads."

"How do you know?" I shot back. "Have you had things missing, or do you just count everyone else's clothes in the washer?" I smiled to let everyone know that I was kidding.

But she plunged on, "He took some of my things as well. The little sick pervert opened up the washer and must have removed some of my pink panties, one at a time. Isn't that sick? Good riddance," she crowed.

A plan was forming in my mind.

When I got back to the apartment, I fished the shopping list pad out of my desk drawer. The pages were lined colored pages, that alternated with yellow, blue, green and pink pages. I folded the page in half and then took a pair of scissors, cutting something roughly the shape of the state of Ohio out of the paper. With a little trim, I opened the pattern up, and saw a very good shape appear in my hand. I grabbed a red magic marker and penned a few lines, then took a pin or two from the pin cushion and left the apartment.

I walked over to her building unobserved, down the steps and entered the washroom/laundry on the bottom level. There was a bulletin board above the washing machine where I pinned the note opened flat to be read and then left unobserved.

The next week, she was back, along with all the usually class members.  She could barely contain herself.

"You know what I discovered," she practically screamed to the class..."It was in the laundry room, where he left it.  Oooo...this is SO sick...." she squealed.
"It was just a little piece of pink notebook paper in the shape of panties that he stuck on the board down there, you know the one I mean?"
And get this.... it read 'Thanks for the memories!'   Isn't that sick?"  She shared with all the other housewives.  "But the worst part about it is that he can't spell..."

"What do you mean," they all wanted to know?

"It actually said, 'Thanks for the mammaries!"  EEEEWWWWW......
studfinder studfinder
56-60, M
Sep 17, 2012