On All Sides

Once stepping foot into the conundrum you are trapped, and the only thing to do is to reach out and find a direction not utterly blocked and move into it. On all sides you are surrounded by the madness of uncertainty, nothing is what it seems; the ceiling may rise or fall, the walls aren't always what they seem, and the very floor your feet stand a pound can not be depended on. Disorientation will be your first name, and you will recognize your own kind by the zombie like stare you'll all share from this experience.

Guss! What the hell are you doing?! That's not how you sell tickets, so beat for a bit.
Step right up, Step right up folks it's a Fun House.

Speak

It's time. You are old enough now and I know you are capable, so think about what you want to say and speak. I'm here for you. I've heard you humming music, and the looks you shoot me say you are ready to speak. I think I've waited long enough. NO!, you have waited long enough, let it out. Come on buddy, you can do this. Release the flood of words that you have damned up for so very long, relieve yourself of the burden. Is this a confidence issue? You are the sharpest rock I've ever known and I know anything you say will be brilliant; you have nothing to be ashamed of. Or maybe this is a trust issue between you and me, but I think I've proven my loyalty by not telling a soul about you or how special you are. Besides I trust you my friend, and you know you are emotionally, literally, and totally my rock. I see you looking at me with those sad googly eyes and I'm not sure what you are trying to tell me. It's so hard to tell if that is a tear or some left over hot glue, but if you're not ready then I guess you're not ready. I was hoping this would be the day, the moment, and I was planning on celebrating by taking you to the most wonderful place in the world. Damn it! I've had it. I have a pocket full of quarters and I'm going to the laundromat without you now; I'll have all the front-loading washing machine action I can handle. So you think about that. 

Landromagic

I wonder what he's thinking as he stares into the porthole of the turning machine,  is he  just perplexed by the miracle of  the modern washing machine, or is he spaced out in some way?.  Maybe he doesn't get out much or have a T.V. and the rotating slushing movement of the front-loading washing machine is real entertainment for him. There is nothing that indicates he is a shut-in or mentally-ill in any way other than the staring at the machine; he appears to be just a normal middle aged man that doesn't stand out in any way at all. I am glad he is keeping to himself because I can't imagine how much I don't want to have a conversation about laundry, and based off of his current interest I am assuming that would be high on his topic list. Is it possible he is stuck, lured in by the hypnotic embrace of the circular motion, entranced for the duration of the cycle? I wonder like the cartoon kid from the old 'Tooties Pop' commercials 'how many turns of a washing machine does it take to hypnotize an individual?' and much like the candy "the world may never know", as I am fairly sure the number would be different for everybody, and as well some people may not be affected. But boy this guy is affected, he is in deep. At any moment I expect him to start leaning in toward the glass until his face makes contact with the washing machine's glass door. Maybe he'll lose his balance or a loud noise will come from outside and snap him out of it. Yet there he continues to stand, motionless. A horrible thought just came to mind as a neighboring machine clicked over and started spinning vigorously, what is going to happen to this guy when his machine goes into the spin cycle? Maybe nothing, or maybe his brain will ooze out of his ears. Why don't they have warning signs about this kind of stuff? Maybe that's how laundromat attendants are made; one day a perfectly normal person starts their laundry and looks into the machine never to look away as a free-willed person, and then finding themselves wearing an apron in a weird little room folding laundry with no memory of how they got there or their life before becoming a living part of the Laundromat.  I suppose I should do something about Mr. Mesmerized, but no one else seems to have even noticed him or his zombie state. I'd hate to ruin his entertainment, after all he is paying for it. Who am I to determine if he is caught in some sort of mental trap and can't get out?. Dang! the laundromat really picks up around eleven in the morning, and still he looks on or possibly beyond at this point. I'm going to try to get him to move using ESP...........Nope, that didn't work. I find I'm not willing to shout something out or make a distraction of any kind because there are so many people now. The spin cycle has been going awhile now and still no change, he hasnt been distracted at all. At least it's almost over; either my load will be dry soon or his washing machine will stop after it has completed its final cycle. It's that time, my time is up and I'm on my way out with my laundry and I cast one last look toward the conundrum, and spy the drum was still. I continued walking toward the door just catching the combined image of the man seemingly catatonic reaching into his pocket with his right hand  and pulling out a handful of change while cracking a disturbing grin all without changing his focus on the still portal. I couldn't make myself wait even half second longer to witness the horrible reality of what would transpire next.