R.A.K.

The idea of a random act of kindness was initially introduced to me by my seventh grade history teacher Mrs. Wilke (wil-key).  Amazing that I remember that, but I remember walking into her classroom and seeing the letters R A K on the board.  I really took her encouragement for kindness to heart because I was the kid everyone picked on.  I thought that maybe this would make the other kids act nicer to me, but as it turns out, I was the only one killing with kindness.

Today, I decided it was laundry day.  Yes, I was out of underwear and apparently that is the deciding factor in whether or not it is time to do laundry.  On a normal day, the laundry room is so crowded you have to practically sit on a washer, full of someone else’s soapy clothing swirling around below your bum to reserve it, pretending not to see the sign behind you that clearly states not to sit on the machines. 

If you don’t know, doing laundry in a crowded Laundromat is not a quick and simple task.  You have to either take care of someone else’s clothes or wait all day until that person remembers they are doing laundry or decides they have enough time to claim their clothing.  I prefer to just move that persons clothing to a dryer, when available, and it seems like dryers are never available.  Well, someone smarter than I figured out a way to reserve a dryer without being physically present.  I’ll let you in on the secret.  Once you get your clothes into a washer, you find an open dryer, set it for an hour and let it run.  No one will attempt to question if your empty dryer is actually drying clothes or not and it will still be available when your clothes are clean and sopping wet.

On this wonderful day, there were 4 out of 6 washers open!  How exciting!  I deposited my laundry in a washer and as I left, set my watch to beep when it was time to return and throw my clothes in a dryer.  Until then, it was nap time!  Upon returning, my clothes were on their final swirl.  While I waited for the washer door to unlock, I turned on a dryer to warm-up/speed up this drying process.  I was tired from working all night and the little things that get me to bed sooner mattered.   As I set the dryer, a woman walked in and asked me for help in broken English.  She was older, shorter than me, small in stature, brown eyes, shoulder length hair that was straight and salt and pepper in color, wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and a sweater.

How could I possibly help this woman?  I didn’t have my laundry detergent with me.  Maybe she can’t read English.  She starts describing to me how the main laundry turn-in makes her clothing too small.  Her English isn’t bad, but I still don’t know what she is asking of me.  She then points to a sign that states the laundry facilities are for US Forces or Modular Housing residents only.  Oh, the light bulb over my head turned on as I realized she is not authorized to use these facilities, and yet the other facilities shrink her clothing.  She explained that she did not want to use the dryers, just the washers.  I enthusiastically nodded my head and motioned for her to toss her clothing in the washer.  I helped her with the settings as she already had soap on her two sweatshirts and a sweater.  I told her to come back in 30 minutes because I could see she was nervous about using these washers.  The sign clearly states that unauthorized clothing will be confiscated. 

My washer is done spinning and unlocked, so I moved my clothing into the pre-heated dryer.  I set the timer for forty minutes and started to head back to my room to see that the woman was waiting on a bench outside the small building.  I got back to my room and all of a sudden started feeling responsible for this woman and her clothing.  I started seeing several different scenarios play out in my head.  In one scenario, I was the woman worried about my clothing and wondering if this American girl had offered help and then abandoned me.  In another scenario, someone walked into the laundry facility and took her clothing.  I decided that I needed to be there for the woman and walked back out to the Laundromat. 

I stood in the building, across from my dryer, guarding her clothing and waiting for mine.  I somehow became super protective of this woman and her clothing.  I again started running scenarios in my head.  If someone questioned her clothing, I was going to say they were mine.  If someone questioned her presence, I would say she was inspecting for cleaning purposes.  Every scenario that could have played out, yet never did, I was prepared for with an answer and a fist if necessary. 

She walked in as her machine finished up.  The washer unlocked, she put her three items on hangars, thanked me and left.  As she left, I felt myself poof with pride.  A large smile came to my face; mission accomplished.