"You don'tů have to pick those upů" she sniffled.
"Hey, no problem," I said. My hands were making direct contact with her pants, her dresses, her round yellow basket. The thongs sizzled on the tiles, but I didn't touch them. Yet.
"You know, it's not thatů" I went to say bad, but then she gave me this what-planet-are-you-from look. "Okay, so it's pretty bad."
She glared, and then that glare brightened. My palms began to sweat, and I hoped it didn't go onto her clothes. Then again, they'd been all over the filthy Laundromat floor, so...
"Maybe her Cabbage Patch Kid could wear it."
"Your roommate has a doll?" I made an exaggerated stink-face.
"On her bed, front and center."
"That's rough," I said.
"That's positively sophomoric." She said, her eyes getting this look. Her head tilted towards me. Definitely cute. My pulse pounded.
"Totally jejune," I answered, dropping the skirt into her basket. The ruined blouse rested on the dryer between us. Her thongs flamed the floor.
I held out my hand. "I'm Darren, by the way."
She took it.