so I fucked up big time at the laundromat today

was wearing those tiny black yoga shorts you like - you know, the ones that barely count as clothing - when I had to haul my sauce-covered clothes to wash. granny at the counter gave me that look like "my goodness, are you wearing THAT at streats?"

came back later and my laundry was gone. panicked. started digging through random laundry bins in my little booty shorts like some kind of desperate criminal. finally tracked down the sweet thief - she was watching her novelas while folding MY lace panties with her wrinkly little hands.

when she saw me standing there half-naked and sweating, she crossed herself like I was the devil coming for her soul. then she made me put on this hideous floral housecoat "para decencia" while we sorted clothes. now I'm stuck eating her terrible sugar-free cookies while she lectures me about modesty. think I just got adopted by the morality police.

come rescue me? I'll keep the shorts on 😇