The Laundromat

When I was in college, I used to work in a laundromat. It was a pretty cool job. I could study (or think about studying), get a rap on, find out what was goin’ on; late-nite’s, etc., and, I could do my laundry, and earn a buck while I was doin’ it. That was a great benefit in itself.

It was about my third or fourth day there when I thought about doin’ my own laundry (yeah - I’m a little slow sometimes. Other times, I’m sleepin’.) Anyway, a couple of days later, I was in my room getting’ together some more clothes to wash at work, and I got down to this hairy blue thing. I cleared it all the way to the wall, and it was carpet. Brand new almost. Protected by wall-to-wall, plush pile, dirty clothes! Forget de-fraggin’ this room; I gotta’ reformat. The best thing was I wouldn’t need to do the ol’ turn ‘em inside-out trick anymore. Or, when I was really lazy, it came down to the sniff test - which one DON’T smell the worst.

Watchin’ other folks do their laundry was a trip too. You had the budget-minded types, that put a few extra loads into the same machine. I remember this one guy one time, who packed the machine tight. He put his weight into it too. I won’t say he was fat or any-thing, but if his shirt was brown, and had laces on the side, he’d look like a football. He came back an hour later, and said somethin’ was wrong with the machine. I went over to it, and raised the lid. There was his clothes, undisturbed, soap on top. He had so many clothes packed in it, they soaked up all the water. Then it dawned on me what the screechin’ sound and smell was earlier - the machine belt was slippin’ and the rubber was burnin, through the entire cycle.

Watchin’ folks measure soap was somethin’ else too. Some thought ‘the more soap, the better’. They’d measure the soap, not with a measuring cup, but with a calendar. When the box was empty, that’s enough. Then there was the messy types. Load 4 or 5 machines, pull the top off the soap box, and connect-a-dot.

Another time, a lady came to the counter, and told me somethin’ was wrong with the washin’ machine. I put down the comic book, and followed her down the row of machines. We got near the end of the row, and I was waitin’ for her to cut over to the row of washers. Didn’t happen. She stopped near the end of the dryer row, and showed me. Clothes loosely packed, measured soap, IN THE DRYER. “I’ll mark it out of order”, I said. In the meantime, let’s try one of THESE machines over here. I had thirty minutes to come up with a dryer solution, without offence. Maybe she’d forget.

Then I learned a trick or two also. Dryin’ clothes took a ton of quarters. The heavy stuff, like yer’ Levi’s, you could turn ‘em inside out. With the pocket and the hems on the outside, they’ll dry quicker. I’m still tryin’ to figure out how to turn a towel inside out tho’…

 

The lady using the dryer as a washing machine was the best lol.

 

I hear ya on this one.....I allways get yelled at for bringin' up wet towels...." these aren't dry...put 'em back in....I can't fold them... My God"

"Sorry honey"

Great story.

 

Its amazing the things you begin to pay attention too when given enough time.