Life at the Launderette
With a new name; the Sultry Suds
It can be interesting,
I live above the Launderette now
It’s where I met my boyfriend,
Where I meet all my friends, and
My best friend, I fell in love there too.
Living above the Laundry.
It’s a place where we can share stories
And do more than just a load at time.
It’s a pub and suds, if you like to pop in.
To the Launderette for a wash and a buzz,
It’s close to where Jim Bob lives at,
He helps serve and drink the malt and ales,
Helps for what ails you, anything else
If you might want to drink and talk about it.
Well, I have a new friend, acquaintance really
Billy is his name, or something like that
But I call him Billy the Scotch Drinker,
It’s what i call him him, nobody else does.
Last night he came by the Sultry Suds for a stiff one,
He got to drinking and Jim Bob got to pouring,
And the more Jim Bob poured, the more he drank
And the more he drank, the more he talked,
I never seen anybody talk and drink that much scotch
Before and still crawl out of here.
I just laughed.
Anyways, he’s one of those who talks about his kid,
All the time, I said, stop repeating, over bragging,
On the same kid is fine, but not drunk, and 20 times
“Stop it”, I said, you there in your 1980’s mustache.
So what it if little Einstein is 4 years old,
And can say, “SPOON.” So can my cat, I said.
That was enough of that.
Anyway moving on, Then he says he works for Secret Service
And Jim Bob said, “Oh #%#@, now what,” and Billy just smiled,
I laughed when he say, he gets paid to draw bubbles and lines..
Like a famous artist or something like that and hated it.
Using very sharp pencils all day on white sheets of paper.
Says he so smart, knows everything thing there is to know,
Show me your sharp pencil, I said, thinks he’s an artist
Offering to sell me one of his Van Gogh or Rembrandt’s,
To put in the Sultry Suds Launderette.
Now, I call him Billy, the Drunk, I say,
I can’t believe they trust you with a sharp weapon
Like that, “Billy you know’s a crime to tell lies,
I said, I don’t know about fine art like that,
Nobody I know, owns a real one.
So I asked him, show me your Fake Rembrandt
I will have to think about that, I said,
After all, why would you come here everyday,
If you owned one of those.
He agreed, left and came back with it
And I could not believe it, I see it.
He pulled it of the bag and showed it.
“Hey Billy the Scotch Drinker.” I said,
“What do you think this is,” The The Famous Artist
Weekend Sale,” or something like that, I said.
“You can’t carry that famous painting around here,
Like that, Take it back where ever took it from
I can’t go around buying stolen VanGogh Rembrandt’s.
He said he owned it, that it was left to him,
In a Last Will and Testimony, when his wife died,
That he wanted he wanted me to have it, Looking
at it; The memories were just to hard to bare,
That he loved coming to the Sultry Suds,
That we were his only friends, me, Jim Bob
So I told him, that I would buy it, making an offer,
That he could come here and look at it any time.
He want, I said, for but free, except for Scotch.
So I gave him a laundry bag full of coins,
It cost me 7 bags in all. Each bag holds 50 pounds
Of quarters, each bag is valued at $1000.00,
Looking for nothing outside of that.” I said.
When I gave it to him, he took it, we laughed,
We hung the painting up, bolted it to the wall
Billy the Scotch Drinker accepted my offer,
Starting today, he comes by every day
To drink, and he finally stopped looking a it.
How about it, it’s the first time,
I’d ever seen anything like that,
I never owned a Van Gogh before,
And that’s all I know about that.
So life goes on, Life above the Launderette,
It ain’t so bad, because I love Jim Bob,
And he loves me and it feels good too,
To have someone and something like that,
Life is picture perfect,
If you know what I mean.