She knew it wasn’t the wisest idea to drive out a few hours after midnight to get her laundry done. But dammit if her ginger cat King Pong hadn’t climbed atop a full basket of laundry and from some unfathomable and maddening motive pissed on her clothes. The apartment manager had promised she would have the basement washer on the fritz fixed by Friday, but really, who could wait. Those clothes needed the salvation of laundry detergent now.

She pulled up to the laundromat and was happy to see it was completely empty. Or so she thought at first. She saw him then, sitting in there on one of the…