laundromania

Intro:
I have these massive Korean bedspreads called mink blankets. They're huge, weigh a fucking ton and a half, and won't fit in a standard washer and dryer. Therefore, I have to lug my blankets around to laundromats that have the extra-capacity front-loading washers.
Story:
Now once in Kentucky I went to wash my blankets before I put them away for the summer. When I walked into the joint, it was full of people. Ever so slowly, people trickled out and before I knew it, I was alone...well, technically I wasn't alone because the owner and proprietor was in the back room watching Korean serials (the best television shows ever!). So this guy walks in, a cowboy sort with too-tight Wranglers and a down-home polo shirt, and he goes to the bathroom. He comes out and walks by me as I'm taking my blankets out of the washer. Then he starts asking me questions about the washer, why is it more expensive, is it better than the other ones, do more clothes fit? So I patiently answer and then go to sit down and read my book. "Thanks a lot," he says. So I look up, "You're welcome." "No seriously, I really appreciate it," and I can tell by his tone that he needs some attention. So I look up, "Sure." Then I notice his arms moving, so my eyes follow his arms down to his hands. Of course I didn't have my glasses on and he was a good fifteen-twenty feet away so I think, "What is he doing with his belt buckle?" Then it clicks and I realize he's jiggling his dick at me. So I think I squealed and looked away as he ran out, probably pleased with himself that he had pulled it out and pulled one over. I go to ask the lady in the back room if she knew who he was and she says to me, "Oh no, I thought he was with you." I tell her that he most assuredly WAS NOT and her response, "Oh, well then I should have charged him a dollar for using the bathroom."
Follow up:
So since that fateful day, I am petrified of going to laundromats by myself. I get sweaty and go into panic-attack mode. But today I HAD to go all by myself to wash my blankets. First of all, they smelled musty and second I had to put them away for the summer. When I got there it was me and just one other guy, a sort of cowboy looking guy with too-tight Wranglers and a polo shirt. But he turned out okay, he traded me dimes and nickels for quarters so I didn't have to get five more bucks worth. But then these two women walked in and one of them, easily pushing about 290, was walking around in a tank-top with no bra on and really tight jeans with the button undone (actually more like unable to be done) and the waist-band rolled down. So now I have new things to fear...I may never reach a good place with the laundromat.