Socks?
“Hey, Chet.” Marco walked into the locker room to find his friend seated on the bench in front of the lockers contemplating his sock, one shoe and sock already on.
“Hey, Marco.” Chet greeted the other firefighter absentmindedly, absorbed in his own thoughts. Marco opened his locker door and began to change into his uniform. After several moments Chet spoke again. “Marco, reckon what happens to socks in the wash?”
“They get clean?” Marco replied, with a puzzled expression.
“No, that’s not what I mean. Of course they get clean.” Chet waved the sock he held in the air for emphasis. “What I mean is…you put five pairs of socks in the wash and four pair and one sock come out of the dryer. Haven’t you ever noticed that?”
“No, I haven’t.” Buttoning his shirt, the other man shook his head, and waited for his friend to continue, as he knew he inevitably would.
“Ya know what? I bet one of the socks dissolves in the water.”
“Chet, that’s dumb. If one sock dissolves, why don’t they all? And…” Marco held up a finger to stop the other man from speaking, “…do you count the socks before you put them in the dryer?”
“You may have a point there.” Chet looked thoughtful. “No, I don’t count the socks between the washer and dryer.” He contemplated his sock for a few moments more. “Maybe the sock evaporates in the dryer.” His excitement grew as he thought about it. “Yeah, maybe that’s it, maybe it gets so hot it just goes poof and disappears. I’ll bet that’s it.”
“Chet, that’s ridiculous.” Rolling his eyes, Marco sat down to put on his shoes and socks.
“Oh, yeah, well you got a better explanation?” Chet slipped the sock onto his foot, then picked up his shoe and put it on.
“No. I haven’t ever noticed any socks missing.”
“Not ever?”
“No.”
“I bet that’s ‘cause your mom does your laundry for you,” Chet accused, pulling his shoelace up, tying it.
“No she doesn’t. I do my own laundry,” Marco said, becoming defensive.
“And you never noticed any socks missing.” Chet shook his head in disgust. “It figures, you’re just not as observant as I am.” Before Marco could say anything in retort, Chet stood and walked from the locker room.
“Chet!….” Marco scowled after the retreating man. Continuing to sit on the bench in front of the lockers, one shoe and sock on, he began to contemplate his other sock.
“Morning, Marco,” John said, entering the locker room.
“Morning,” Marco replied absentmindedly, still contemplating the sock in his hand. The other man crossed to his locker and opened it. “John?”
“Yeah, Marco?”
“Reckon what happens to socks in the wash?”
*Click on the washer/dryer to send Linda2 feedback
Sock It To Me Page Stories By Linda2
