A mix-up at the laundromat

This was not your day.

It was the first time in ages that your shitty job had given you a Saturday off so you'd stayed up improbably late last night just because you could, but then you forgot to turn off your fucking alarm. With less than four hours of sleep, you'd rolled out of bed and taken a slow shower, only to realize that you were completely out of clean underwear. So, you'd loaded up a basket of essentials, pulled on some itchy sweatpants and a shitty t-shirt, and managed to crank your crappy car on the third try to head down to the local laundromat.

And here you sat, less than half awake, your headache throbbing with every thump and roll of the clattering washers and dryers around you. The only relief you can find is through the podcast playing through your earbuds, so you try to sit back and lose yourself in the chatter of familiar voices.

Your body goes into a kind of autopilot when you hear the dryer next to you buzz, standing up on its own and bundling up the warm, soft clothes inside. The comforting warmth reminds you of the bed that by all rights you should still be wrapped up in, so you close your eyes and bury your face in the pile for a while.

"Excuse me, I think those are mine..."

Your eyes bolt open and reveal that you're face down in a pair of pink cotton panties. In fact, none of these clothes are yours. This was the wrong fucking dryer.

You turn your head toward the voice slowly, your eyes sliding nervously up a toned pair of legs in yoga pants and any athletic quarter-zip top on their way up to the face of the woman standing beside you. Her arms are crossed, but she looks more impatient than upset.

"I-I-I'm so sorry," you stutter frantically, trying to pull your earbud out only to realize that a lacy yellow thong is hooked around your thumb. "I-I-I..."

"I get that there's not much to do here while you're waiting," she sighs, "but that's actually my last load of the day and I kinda have other errands to run. You wanna just pick a pair to keep and let me get out of here?"

"Keep?" The shock of humiliation has you fully awake now, but you still can't quite understand what she's saying. You straighten up and try to hand the freshly cleaned underwear back to her. "Look, this was all a big misunderstanding. I'm not that kind of creep, I swear."

"I really don't mind," she insists in a way that should be sarcastic, but honestly sounds sincere. "If all you want are some panties to jerk off with, go ahead! Did you like these cotton ones? Here."

She takes the pink ones that you had your face in off of the pile and offers it to you, apparently serious. You glance around, worried that this is causing as scene, but nobody else in the rather busy laundromat has even looked up from their cell phones. Still, in the interests of getting whatever the fuck this is over with already, you reach out and take the offered underwear.

She seems satisfied by this, casually putting the rest of her clothes away in a laundry bag and carrying it away, waving to you as she leaves.

"Have fun with those, sweetie!"