Twice or three times I’ve been to an inconvenient laundromat a couple blocks down from my house. But you know, when you’re there waiting on the laundry to get done by the machines and the smell of lint and fabric softener is in the air, you need something to do. Sure, you have your smartphone and all the benefits of constantly being assured by your social media friends, but the serendipitous force of reading material found on the shelves of the laundromat add a mystical and fatalist charm to your mundane experience.

I found, on three occasions, religious pamphlets left there by other patrons. There were no stacks of these pamphlets or designated spots for them. Just single pieces of literature set aside haplessly from the used car magazines and real-estate listings that were assigned stackable spots. There was a deal struck between the laundromat and the distributors. The religious material, however, was narrative based. Someone left it there after reading it.

This last summer, I noticed Jehovah’s Witnesses campaigning just outside St. Clare’s Roman Catholic Church and just beyond the gates of Prospect Cemetery. Despite the expectation of their traditionally unwanted presence at people’s homes, the campaigners were almost statuesque and conversationally preoccupied with each other whilst standing next to their Watchtower stalls. The Watchtower headlines, neatly shelved, betrayed their merchants’ nonchalance. I can’t remember exactly what they said, but they were usually along the lines of “Who Is God?”, “Does God Care About You?” or “What Does the Future Hold?”. These profound questions with atheistic responses deserving of reluctance in the face of such reserve and formality, still made you wonder. There was an air of welcoming and the warmth of ambiguity in the questioning. All things “God” are supposed to be that way. God understands you’re alienated through modernity, you have questions and need answers.

I can’t remember where the other two laundromat pamphlets came from. Were they of the same denomination or disparate factions of God’s army? I can’t say. On the third trip to the laundromat though, it was noticeable that these religious pamphlets were singularly there. Who knows…maybe there were stacks of these pamphlets and, by an act of God, I saw them reaching out to me through their pragmatic loneliness. The last pamphlet was definitely a Jehovah’s Witness one. It was well into the Autumn at this point and made me wonder if there was any collusion between the seasonal presences.

In case you’re wondering, I have so much clothes, I can afford to do laundry once a month. In fact, even with less clothes, I can probably only afford to laundry once a month. But I digress.

More to come…