Laundry Day

When cleaning out my dresser for my semi annual fall laundry drive, I discovered that I owned five different kinds of deodorant. And the strange thing was that there were no duplicates. It wasn’t as if I simply bought my regular brand and forgot about it when I got another; there were five different kinds of odor and wetness protection in my drawer. If I didn’t live by myself I’d think that someone was trying to send me a message.

My usual laundry place was over-crowded today so was forced to seek another establishment for my laundering needs. I found a place called Crystal Cleansers. I already had issues with the name. Why were they “Cleansers,” and not, “Cleaners?” Cleansers makes me think of some firebrand preacher standing on a stage yelling, “Begone you devil coffee stain!”

This place took “coin-operated,” to a whole new level. Beside the coin operated washing machines where the coin operated dryers which were in turn next to the coin operated vending machine (no dollar slot) and the pay phone which sat under the coin operated television (it had a timer). This, ladies and gentlemen, is the future of commerce.

The machines were horribly expensive too. The three single-load washers were all taken (all by the same person I might add), and the next step up was the “double load,” washer (roughly the size of my shoe), or the “triple load,” washer (roughly the size of my car). The double load cost 9 quarters to operate. The triple load cost 16 quarters to operate. I came in there with so many quarters in my pocket I had to walk with a limp, and by the time I started using the dryers I was smoothing out crumpled dollar bills to use in the change machine (which apparently doesn’t accept American currency).

And the children. Oh lord the children. They ran around, screaming and yelling things in a variety of different languages. I’ve honestly never wanted to drop kick a child before today. They ran free, free of the bonds of parental supervision as their parents busied themselves watching the dryer spin. One such toddler was running laps around the place. Every time he reached where I was sitting he would attempt to turn, which was a maneuver his young, newly discovered legs couldn’t handle, and he landed face down on the tiles. “SMACK! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” It was ear splitting. Eventually his older brother would come, pick him up, and bring him over to his mother. I didn’t pay any attention after that, but no sooner do I start reading my book again than I hear “SMACK! WAAAAAAAAAAAA!” Little Mario Andretti fell again. It went on like this for an hour.

I was running two dryers, one for regular clothes and one for woolens. They both finished at roughly the same time, but the woolens were not particularly dry. I only hesitated a moment to consider putting more quarters in when I heard “SMACK! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” again and I just decided I’d hang my sweaters up when I got home.