I just now almost got into a fight. And I do mean just now — as in only about 20 minutes ago.
I was in our apartment’s laundry room, waiting to do some emergency laundry. (We’ve all been there — underwear, socks, towels and the like.) I had a load of laundry to do and it had to get done tonight. All the washing machines were taken, and I waited ten minutes next to a washer filled with someone’s already-finished wash. That’s ten minutes spent just staring at the only would-be available machine. I finally got fed up and took the guy’s clean laundry out… only for him to walk in right after I did it.
He… didn’t seem happy. In fact, he seemed seconds away from punching me.
WHAT I ALMOST SAID:
“Look, buddy, you should expect this to happen when you take up the last three machines in a communal laundry room and not take your stuff out on time. We only have 6 machines to share between over 100 people, and I’ve waited 15, 20, 40 minutes before for people to take their finished laundry out. I waited ten minutes for you and I just assumed you were another one of the loafers in our apartment complex. If I had known you were going to come in just five more minutes, I would’ve waited.”
WHAT I ACTUALLY SAID:
He went on to berate me (because I confessed that I did it when he questioned me and I apologized) and finished by saying, “In the future, wait a little longer for someone to get their laundry!”
He then very tersely walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.
I don’t entirely blame him for his reaction (although he got angrier than I thought anyone would over this), but am I in the wrong? Can you blame me for what I did?
I don’t like to touch other people’s clean laundry any more than I like touching my dirty laundry — I avoid it at all opportunities. But goddammit, it’s just rude to not keep track of your crap in that situation.
At least I actually waited for the guy, fessed up to taking his stuff out when questioned and genuinely apologized afterwards. He still looked like he wanted to punch my face in, though.
Here’s the bad news: Assuming he’s now on top of things, I’m going to run into him again tonight when I put my wash into the dryer and he takes his stuff out. I hope he didn’t spend all his time stewing over this and decks me the second he sees me.
UPDATE: As expected, I ran into him. We exchanged glances (his glance was more of a scowl) and that was that. We both internally decided to just leave it alone; he already said all he wanted to and I wanted to let sleeping dogs lie out of fear of a face-punching. DRAMA AVERTED!