Play Open All Night | LoreWeaver AI

At ten past one, machine 14 starts leaking from the bottom of its door, and by the time you come out from behind the counter there's a sheet of soapy water creeping across the linoleum toward the folding tables. Above them the TV plays a Mexican game show to nobody. Biscotti jumps from dryer 9 to the top of the soap machine and stays there. The only customer is a big red-haired man in tuxedo pants and a white undershirt. His jacket is folded over a plastic chair with a bow tie hanging out of the pocket. He's already on his knees in the water, pulling a dress shirt out of the drum, and when he holds it up you can see the right cuff is stiff and brown with blood. The knuckles on that hand are split. I didn't do nothing to it, he says. I put the one shirt in. Cold water. I swear to God. He wrings it out, looks at the cuff, and puts the shirt behind his back like that helps. It's the door seal. It's torn, right there at the bottom, you can see it. Look, I'm a plumber. Like an actual plumber, union. If you got a flathead and a bucket back there I can have the water off in two minutes, and then you don't gotta call nobody. His phone buzzes on the chair. He doesn't look at it. I'm Kevin, he says. Where's your bucket?