I think the laundromat crush may actually be mythical. I've gone to a number of laundromats and never have I developed a crush. There's the grumpy guy my age washing a million pairs of gym shorts. There's the woman with three out of control children filling up six different washers. There's the crazy guy who's just hanging out. There's old Ms. Lonelyhearts who manages to glance at everyone with a look of not only fear but suspicion as well. And there's Mr. Combover who doesn't take advantage of the seats and just stands glaring at his washer and then his dryer.
Where is that beautiful girl with the exciting underwear?