When I was a young married woman I lived about a fifteen minutes away from a popular lake. This was my first marriage and everything about being a homemaker was great and exciting. I loved making muffins in the morning. I loved making roast in the slow cooker on Sundays. My first husband drove a truck long haul and I pretty much had a house to myself for weeks at a time. I had many hobbies and kept busy with them.
One day our dryer died. We had a washateria just around the block. It was easier to just do my wash all at once. I made it part of my routine to go do my laundry every Sunday. I worked for a large insurance company and I was off on the weekends. I really enjoyed the laundromat.
I started going every Sunday about the same time. I would often visit with people that I met there. I met a young couple that were very tanned and always tipsy. They told me they would go to the lake every Sunday afternoon after all the crowd and campers had left. They would gather up all the belongings people had left behind. Every Sunday afternoon they would show me their haul. I found this intriguing. It was actually very interesting.
When my husband came back home off the road I told him about the new friends I had made. He was a very particular person and was horrified by the new story. That week he purchased a new dryer and I never went to the laundromat again.