My Presswali

A Presswali is a lady who irons clothes for you. We have a lady who comes to our house most days to see if we have clothes to iron. Maybe once a month Steve will have a shirt to be pressed. Usually we have nothing. But she still comes. She comes in and sits on the floor. She looks around and notices all that we have. And since the shoes are nearest the door, she notices them the most. So she asks for shoes. She asks for shoes for her son. She asks for shoes for her granddaughter. And she asks for shoes for herself. I was wearing my new flip flops the other day when she came and she noticed right away. She wanted to know where the old ones were and if I wanted to give them to her. I know I only really need one pair, but I'm not ready to part with my older ones. Sometimes one will get wet and I will wear the others for a while. Or someone else might want to wear some flip flops in our house. So I hold on to them.

Today I had a pair of shoes for the Presswali. They are an old pair of tennis shoes that where left at the gym almost a year ago. They are a little mildewy but besides that they should be great for her son. She was happy to have those. And for my payment for my kindness she gave me an arm massage. She pulled each of my fingers until they popped and then rubbed my arms. It is a bit awkward to be massaged by the presswali, but it is the only way for her to show me her thankfulness I think, so I endure. And as we sat there while she rubbed my arms, she asked if any of my friends had shoes for her granddaughter or if I had gotten shoes for her yet. Oh, and she said her granddaughter really liked the lipstick I had given her several years ago and she wants more.

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