Kurt nearly chokes on his frozen yogurt the first time he sees him.
He’s really glad that he didn’t actually choke because that would have been beyond embarrassing.
But this guy might have been totally worth dying for via dairy plus windpipe. Kurt admits that he’s not the most subtle person at the best of times, but the guy doesn’t notice as he checks him out from behind his book.
His clothes aren’t what Kurt would have picked for himself, but the guy makes them work, even down to the bowtie dotted with tiny seahorses.
Kurt hides himself behind the book, precariously balancing the yogurt on his knee, as the guy picks a machine in the next row. As he does, Kurt notes the splat of black on the guy’s ankle, disappearing into the hem of his highwaters.
Kurt isn’t looking for a laundromat romance. He decided long ago that he was too old for such fantasies.
It doesn’t stop him from daydreaming about Laundromat Man and his mysterious tattoo for the next few days.