Oh, right, that’s why I drop my laundry off
July 26, 2007 by smack
today is laundry day. after eating the cranberry muffins I made last night (packed with fiber!), I hoofed it down my 5 flights of ratty stairs and up and across the street in the desert sun to the Laundryland. It’s called something oh just adorable like that, too. NOt Laundromat… iT’s Laundrotown or something. Anyway. I get there and nearly every machine has a white sharpie scrawled “out of order” sticker on it. So I poke the woman next to me
“dude, are these all out of order?” - me, sweating, perplexed
“well, I used these two over here, they’re fine.” - lady.
I said thank you and loaded up my laundry. Shit, no quarters. I go to the coin dispenser? OUT OF ORDER. “this is out of order”, I say to myself. I ask the laundry lady for some change and she hits me angry with quarters. I load up. I can’t get the quarter tray to go in. I’m slamming it and slamming it. Laundry lady comes up and grabs a quarter out of my hand and mimics adding it to the tray :
“you put one more! you put ONE MORE!” - lady “yelling”, but maybe just talking loudly.
Finally, laundry is in and all I must do is wait. I wait. Washing seems fine. 20 minutes and we’re good to go.
But no, another roadblock lies at the end.. it’s called the dryers. I load up. I plop quarters in. These dryers must be hungry because NOTHING DRIED RIGHT. Yes, I know you dont’ overload with towels, yes I know how to do laundry — so please, no unsolicited advice here. EVERYTHING WAS DAMP. I finally was like “F it, I’m out of here. First of all I don’t understand why IIIIII have all the damn towels in my bag. Secondly, I have PMS, and thirdly, AUGH I HATE THIS STUPID LAUNDRY”.
So now all of my stuff is hanging up all over the apartment doing the job the COMMERCIAL DRYERS couldn’t finish. I of course, in a blind laundry rage, slapped off a quick email to Factor asking why I had to do all the towels and why the crap he has three in use right now anyway, when he wouldn’t even let me have TWO when I used to take sleepovers. “Who needs two towels! GIRLS!” - he would roll his eyes. Obviously, its not that big of a deal, but that’s just the way the urine cake crumbles, isn’t it.
