Throughout life, I've been fortunate enough to have only once needed the services of a laundromat--in Wall, South Dakota--for three months. And while the rust stains the washer left on your clothes were a bummer, I sort of enjoyed my time in that laundromat. It was part reading nook, part dance hall, part hangout in this tiny little town (think Endora, Illinois from "What's Eating Gilbert Grape").
In Kinko's this afternoon, I realized this corporate copy store is the closest thing I've got to a laundromat-like experience. In both places, there are people working on the same type of work, independently, yet in a shared place. Maybe I need to get out more, but I feel an excitement at Kinko's, the idea of people assembling projects to the rhythmic tune of copiers churning out the work.
In Kinko's this afternoon, I realized this corporate copy store is the closest thing I've got to a laundromat-like experience. In both places, there are people working on the same type of work, independently, yet in a shared place. Maybe I need to get out more, but I feel an excitement at Kinko's, the idea of people assembling projects to the rhythmic tune of copiers churning out the work.
I'm a Kinko's semi-regular, either copying TESOL work or story manuscripts. If only I mailed out story submissions as often as I wash clothes. If only Kinko's would add a coffee shop, like some laundromats. Maybe I could be copying one completed story, while working on the next.
