What I dread most in my list of things to do is the trip to the laundromat. Funny thing is, I've only been once in this area, and it was no problem at all. I took a book, watched traffic, and talked to an older (older than 43) black woman who was washing just about everything because she'd been caring for a sick grandchild.

The memory that grates on me is from Lemmon Ave. in Dallas. That part of town was full of singles in apartments. I lived in a garage apartment a few blocks away. I tried to time washing for night, but it was necessary to go that afternoon. The place was crammed. Every machine was going.

Some cracker family bought lunch at a fast food shop and used one of the folding tables as a lunch counter. There were three children, as I recall, and a mess of salt, pepper, mustard, ketchup and coke.

When they finally got out of there, I wiped that table down myself.