Laundrette

I’m positive the man in the laundrette is a vampire. I know how ridiculous that sounds, like why would a vampire be in a laundrette? Or some of you are probably saying vampires don’t exist. They do actually. Hard as it is to believe they do actually exist. And I’m pretty sure one is sitting here in this laundrette. He came in about an hour ago, 10:30 I think, which is pretty late to use a laundrette if you ask me. He only had one bag and put the clothes inside it on for an extra-long, extra hot wash. Did you know extra hot is great for getting out really stubborn stains like red wine, red paint, red sauce, blood…Then he just sat down and waited. No phone, no music, no book, not even a magazine, just sat there, watching people walk by. I wanted to ignore him. I wanted to finish my load and read my book. But I’m worried, I’m worried he’s waiting till I’m distracted, till I forget he’s there then he’s going to pounce! So, I’ve spent the last hour watching him watching people walking. I’m worried he knows I’m on to him

You’re probably wondering why I think he’s a vampire. Well first of all I can tell. This man is clearly one of the undead, his skin is really, really pale. Like sick pale, like chemo pale, like translucent pale, like, like, well you get the picture. This guy is so pale I can see the blue veins in his forehead from all the way back here. I’m right at the back of the laundrette. I had a couple of loads to do, and I knew I’d be here a while so I thought it would be safer at the back, away from randoms looking in. only now, of course, I’ve trapped myself in an empty laundrette with a supernatural blood sucking demon. Not how I was planning on spending my Wednesday night.

The washer bleeps letting me know my second load is done, I grab the small door quickly, yanking it open to silence the beep. I glance towards the vampire, he’s still staring out of the window, he didn’t react at all. Typical vampire behaviour. I transfer my wets to the dryer as quietly as I can. I keep checking him, but he doesn’t move, just keeps staring out that window. Watching people walk by. Why is he watching them? What’s so interesting about, oh, wait…he’s watching them because he’s deciding which one he’s going to, well you know…like a human version of Yo Sushi.

My dryer is going to take almost another hour. I’m stuck here for almost an hour with a Goddamn Creature of The Night.

Ok, I know what you’re thinking, being pale doesn’t automatically make someone a vampire but that’s not the only reason ok? His fingernails are super long and kind of dirty. I noticed when he bought a washing powder pod from the vending machine, how long and filthy they are. His hair is really long too, in that old fashioned style that a lot of vampires have, like in that movie where the vampire has a job interview, except this guy’s hair is a bit tatty and fried looking, whereas Brad Pitt’s looked like he was advertising for L'Oreal. I haven’t seen his teeth; I don’t want to get that close if I’m honest. And if he knows I’m trying to look at his teeth then he’ll know I know then he might…you know.

He has a smell, like a dirt smell, kind of like is someone crawled out of a grave. A small that all vampires have. But the main reason I know he’s a vampire is the feeling I got when he walked in. the way the hairs on my arms stood on end, the way my stomach clenched, the sense of doom that spread throughout the laundrette like a shadow gobbling up the last of the sunlight. The way I knew he wanted to hurt me, I could just tell, you know? Like the way he intentionally ignored me, making me think he doesn’t notice I’m here, so I’ll drop my guard, How he keeps staring out the window with his long nails and straggly hair and pale, pale skin…I want to leave, I want to go home but my clothes are still in the dryer. Why did I leave it so late to do my laundry? I know it isn’t safe not just because of the vampires but all the regular creeps too. I just want to wash my clothes, maybe get some reading done is that too much to ask? Just a couple of hours to get some errands done without worrying that some weirdo or vampire is going to hurt me. I should have done this during the day, when there’s more people here, when it's safer, when it’s light. What do creeps and vampires have in common? They come alive at night. They love night, people are more vulnerable, more alone, easier to get at night. That’s it. Screw this. I’m going home. I grab my clothes out of the dryer, they are still damp, but I don’t care, I’ll stick them on the radiator when I get home. I’m not even going to bother folding them, I’m just shoving damp clothes on top of dry clothes I don’t care, I need to leave. I grab my bag and walk quickly to the door, the vampire doesn’t even look at me, too busy watching the few remaining people on the street. I feel lucky he hasn’t realised there’s a delicious snack in the laundrette with him.

Once I’m out on the cold street I feel like I can breathe. I’m away, I’m heading home, in ten minutes I’ll be completely safe. I start to relax, my stomach unclenches, I feel lighter…then I hear it. Footsteps. Behind me. The Vampire. He’s following me. I suddenly realise what a completely stupid idea this is, the laundrette was safe, it was bright, it had huge windows, anyone could walk in at any time. The laundrette was a sanctuary but now I’m out in the open on the increasingly deserted streets, it’s dark, cold, empty. Perfect for an attack. I hear the footsteps getting closer. Coming up behind me getting closer, closer. I turn sharply into an alley, maybe I can hide, wait this alley cuts a few minutes off the walk, I usually avoid it because walking down an alley is probably the second most unsafe thing you can do, the first being leaving the cosy, safe, bright laundrette but I’m desperate to get home, I want to get in and get my door locked, vampires can’t come into your home unless invited, I’ll be safe if I can just get home. Oh crap, he’s followed me into the alley. I reach into my pocket and close my hand around the box cutter, I slide the razor blade out. I stop walking. The vampire stops right behind me, turning quickly I pull the box cutter out of my pocket and drag the blade across his face, his hands fly to his cheeks as they start to bleed, I attack again, jabbing his stomach and chest, he grabs his stomach and I quickly drive the box cutter into his throat, he makes a gurgling sound as he falls to the floor, I grab my laundry bag and search for the wooden stake, tucked in between my dry pyjamas. I drive it into his chest aiming for his heart, he opens his mouth in a scream, but no sound comes out. I drive the stake into him over and over until he stops moving.

I look down at him broken and bloodied, he isn’t turning to dust. Maybe that’s a movie thing? Maybe vampires just die like the humans they are pretending to be. I nudge him with my foot, still nothing. I kneel down and prise open his mouth. I want to see his fangs, see what pain I avoided. I can’t see them, I pull his lips back further, using both hands to pull his jaw down, opening his mouth as wide as possible. There are no fangs. Did they retract when I stabbed him? I don’t want to put my hand in his mouth in case he’s faking but I can’t see his fangs. It’s really dark in the alley, the lighting is terrible, I try to angle his head towards the streetlight at the end of the alleyway, maybe I just can’t see them. As I grab the side of his head, I feel something hard in his ear, I shove his gross hair out of the way, there’s something plasticky and hard in his actual ear. I pry it out. It’s a hearing aid. I quickly check his other ear, another hearing aid. Why would a vampire need a hearing aid? Why would a vampire have no fangs? I look down at his body, beneath all the blood his clothes are dirty, with actual dirt, from like a garden. I stumble backwards confused, my heel knocks against something, I turn to see what it is. It’s my book, I must have left it in the laundrette when I was rushing to get out. It’s my book that the pale, deaf, no fanged, gardener was trying to return to me. Which means he wasn’t following me to suck my blood, he was trying to give me back my book. Which means I didn’t stake an evil, bloodsucking, monstrous vampire. I slaughtered a poor, innocent, deaf guy who was trying to do a good deed.

DAMMIT! Not Again! I totally thought I was right this time! He was such a stereotypical Vamp! The Hair! The Nails! The Goddamn Skin paler than a corpse! He couldn’t have been more of a vampire! What a complete waste of an evening, plus I’m covered in blood, my coat is ruined. Luckily there’s a laundrette just around the corner, I can do an extra-long, extra hot wash. That always gets the blood out.