Witness

It is 8PM. I am standing against a washer in the back of the laundromat. There are twelve minutes left for my clothing to dry. I am reading a book.

Several people step out the back door to do something - I don't know exactly what. The room grows suddenly cold, then suddenly hot as the night air and the heating system do battle over the threshhold. For the moment, I am the only person there aside from the attendant who speaks no English working in the back.

A young man enters, not much older than myself. He is wearing nice shoes and a long black wool coat that looks very warm. He approaches me quickly and stops at a safe distance.

"Excuse me, sir," he says, a little nervously, "but can I offer you something to read while you wait for your laundry?" With that, he holds out his one copy of Watchtower.

I explain to him in what I sincerely hope is a polite tone that, no thank you, I already have something to read. I hold up my paperback for him to see. It is a copy of American Gods by Neil Gaiman.

There is an awkward moment.

The young man apologizes, turns, and walks very quickly out the front door. He does not speak to the attendant who does not speak English. After a few seconds, several people return to repopulate the laundromat.