Still Life with Laundry

Since we are still without a functioning washing machine, The Roommate and I had to hit the laundromat today to ensure we would have enough socks and underwear and other nonstinky articles of clothing to last us for at least another week.

Mind you, I use a laundromat once a year. And then it’s only because I’m on vacation for two weeks and need to recycle some of my luggage. The Roommate hasn’t used a laundromat since 1992. So neither of us is particularly well-versed in the finer points of washing your shit in public. However, I at least understand the basic rules.

• Don’t leave your shit in a machine
• Don’t leave your shit on a machine
• Don’t touch other peoples’ shit

Easy enough, right?

Well apparently there’s a whole laundromat pecking order. And all kinds of laundromate etiquette specific to the regulars who patronize this particular location. And us being there threw a sizable monkey wrench into the inner workings of our friendly neighborhood U Save Speed Wash. (No, I’m serious. That’s the name of the place. I mean. WTF. Bargain laundry?)

When we arrived, there was exactly one person there, though there were multiple machines in use. I greatly doubted that the tiny old lady perched near the front door was the owner of all that laundry. Which amused me because cardinal (and posted) rule #1: DON’T LEAVE YOUR SHIT IN A MACHINE…already broken. Well. At least it wasn’t in my way. We quickly filled up the first four machines we could get and made it all the way through the cycle before we ever saw another soul. We unfortunately had to stand in front of our machines the whole time because the old lady was sitting smack-dab in the middle of the only bench in the entire place. There was a chair towards the back but it had someone’s stuff piled on it.

Apparently standing in front of your machine makes people suspicious because the old lady eyeballed us for the entire 30 minute cycle. She clutched her purse against her side the whole time. You would have though we were wearing ski masks.

Just across from the washers we chose were these new-looking dryers. All but one were empty, so we proceeded to transfer our four loads of laundry to the four empty dryers. Shortly after doing so, the other patrons to whom all the other laundry loads belonged returned from…wherever they go while they launder. The old lady grabbed her one load, filled a dryer at the back of the room, kicked the stuff off the chair back there, and plopped down, never taking her eye off of us. The returning patrons quickly occupied the vacated bench with piles of stuff. Coats, purses, bags. So we were stuck standing at the dryers now.

That’s when all the murmuring and gesturing began. Once folks realized these two interlopers were taking up what were apparently known as the “good dryers”, we were Public Enemy Number One. In fact, one woman actually asked us - rather pointedly I might add – whether we were done yet. When I informed her that no, we’d just started, she huffily stuffed her wet load into an older dryer and remarked “Well. These over here burn the shit out of your clothes. I GUESS I’ll take my chances.” Um. OK.

Trying to observe the cardinal rules, we piled our shit in front of our dryers even though we could have easily piled them onto every other horizontal surface like the rest of the patrons were doing. Hey, we really didn’t want to piss off the natives more than we already had.

Once my laundry had dried, I filled up a rolling basket and tucked myself into a corner at one of the folding tables, trying to be out of everyone’s way. Before I had a chance to start, a woman tromped up to me and said “ExCUSE me. Can you NOT block my basket?” I looked behind me to see an empty laundry cart pushed against the wall. It looked just like all the other empty laundry carts littering the room. I turned back to the woman and she puffed out her chest and said “I NEED my CART. THAT one.” I moved to the side and pulled the cart forward for her. She glared at me and grabbed it. I went back to my folding but I could tell she was still glaring at me as she worked on filling her cart with wet clothes.

We opted to head home early even though all our stuff was still damp. To us it was worth it to be out of there than have bone dry clothes and towels. Needless to say, I don’t look forward to the next two trips we will inevitably have to make. I’m even entertaining the idea of doing my laundry at my parents’ house. That would be preferable to old ladies and housewives with attitude.