By the time I got home from work I'd lost my will. Laundry could wait.
It wasn't a matter of laziness, I told myself, but effective cash management. With $25 to last me the two days until payday it only made sense to wait. I changed my clothes, washed my face and dried it on a towel that screamed "wash me." It's twin on the other rack was equally stiff and mocking.
So I gathered up the laundry stuff and headed to Leslie's recommended laundry. Leslie is the oracle on all things city, thus it was indeed brightly lit with murals painted on the walls. The crowd was young and mellow without an obvious felon in sight. A sweet old lady sat behind the counter, with rows of stainless steel machines as far as the eye could see.
The facility was excellent, the problem was me. After 24 years of home laundry I was once again a naive laundromat virgin. I shuttled my various supplies from the car, balancing them all around me as I approached the change machine.
It could convert any bill to quarters. The line grew as I considered the options. The $5 would not provide enough quarters, it swallowed the $20 easily and paid out like a slot machine. I scooped up my silver haul and dropped it in my bulging pocket, placed my hangers and detergent over three vacant machines and returned to the car for my laundry.
After filling three machines at $2 each, I reached into my pocket where it was clear there was not $14 left, but about $4. I explained the shortage to the nice lady behind the counter.
"You waited for the other ten, didn't you?" she said, as she walked toward the machine.
"Waited for what?"
"The sign says it will only dispense $10 at a time. You have to wait for it to reload... At least there used to be a sign here... oh well... you know for next time," she turned and shuffled back to her perch. The young couple that was behind me in the change line stared intently at the folding tasks in front of them.
With four meals between now and payday it was time to consider my options. I would hang anything lightweight on hangers and let it all air dry back at the apartment, reducing the three loads to two dryers.
When I opened the "knits and delicates" washer, each item was steaming as I hung it. I pushed the wrong button for cold water. The new red sweater didn't shrink, but I had never before considered making a pink bra fashion statement.I will now make several.
With the other washers still running, I hung the damp stuff in the back seat of my car, instantly steaming the windows.
The dryers ate my remaining quarters and returned a bag full of folded laundry and another dozen hangers hung with fresh, dry clothing.
There are 22 stairs and three key locks between the outside door and my apartment. One can not navigate a purse, a bag of clean laundry and masses of wet and dry laundry on hangers through that maze. I left the heavier, problematic, wet stuff hanging in the back seat with hopes it doesn't dip below freezing tonight.
I opted to stretch my remaining $5 with a cold cereal and milk dinner back at the apartment, but the refrigerator froze my quart of milk. I tried running hot water on it in my "kitchenette" sink, instantly reminded that they turned it off last week when there was a leak dripping to the apartment below. Apparently they forgot to come back.
I turned on the bathroom light to try the sink there... and spotted the two nasty towels comfortably nested exactly where I had left them when I went to the laundromat.
Things have to go better next time.

Copyright 2004 Judi Griggs