After searching for 3 days I finally find a laundrette when I get to Amiens. I’m not desperate yet, ‘cos none of my undercrackers have been turned inside out so I’ve got six months to go but … my sheets feel like cardboard boxes so am thinking it be best to get them all cleaned up.
So anyway I have 3 loads and I get them all in separate machines, select the right programme (cos you know what happened in Chateaudun!) and go to put my money in. Now, French laundrettes work differently to ours. There’s one box that controls all the machines and it takes coins or tokens. So I insert my €3 and press 1. Check behind me and the washer is going so cool, one down two to go. I stick another €3 in and press 2 … nothing. I press 2 again, nothing. I press return coins, nothing. I belt the machine with the heel of my hand, nothing. Bugger. So I stick another €3 in and press 3. Aye machine 3 starts up so that’s all cool, so flushed with that success I stick yet another €3 in and press 2 again. Nothing. Hmmm.
Well before I have a chance to do anything else this very cute little chick who I’d noticed with her Mum comes over and speaks in excellent English, “You have to call this number for each incident.” She points to a call-us-if-there’s-a-problem number on the wall and as I don’t appear to have a phone and can’t speak much French, she gets her phone out and starts dialing the number. I’m well impressed. But before she gets connected, the mother does something to the machine and it starts up. So I’m full of thank you’s and that and chuffed that everything’s going so well.
I start cracking onto hot chick, turns out she’s Romanian studying in France and her English is exceptional. As is her arse 🙂 So of course I sucked my belly in, stuck my chest out and gives it some for Britain. She’s putting up a game fight but I reckon I’ve got this in the bag here like. ‘Til mother decides they’re going elsewhere while their washing is in! TUT! So I’m left in the laundrette with a fat Indian and two noisy French lads. Thanks.
So later on hot chick comes back, without her Mum. She smiles as she comes in and she’s checking me out the whole time she’s putting stuff in the dryer, so I get up and she says yes please, she’d like a hand with her washing. So I’m helping her put things in the dryer and I tried very hard not to grin, but it did cross my mind that now I had actually had my hand in her knickers hahahaha! Aww come on I’m a single bloke …whaddya expect!
Anyway we’re chatting on getting on like a house on fire and I’m wondering if she’s ever had it in a camper before? Will she be up for it? Well who knows but for now she’s on her way out again while her clothes are drying. Hmmm I think she’s playing hard to get. So later, I’m putting my own stuff in the dryer when hot chick comes back to collect her washing. I of course drop what I’m doing to help her and we’re chatting, smiling etc. She’s checking me out all the time and she’s only maybe 25-28? I’m 49 and look it so maybe she’s just one of those chicks who’s into older men. I don’t care I’m loving it. So we finish her washing and I try to move in for the kill but she’s resisting! Dammit why do girls do this! Fat Indian and the French boys have been watching me the whole time and now there’s another bloke in, so I’m feeling that I need to close the deal here! Then … she leaves! She heads for the bloody door saying Bye! I can’t believe it! But wait … a backward glance, a smile, she hesitates, stops, turns, and heads back to me! Whey hey! She comes right up face on, gives me a huge beaming smile and says “I also know where there is a good hairdresser for you to use while you’re on your holidays.” Dumbfounded I reply that it’s fine cos I always cut my own. Her face says “You can tell.” so I just smiled and waited for her to bugger off. Cheeky bint.
So the moral of the story is, when in foreign laundrettes keep an eye out for East European lesbians!