13 May

Dear Laundry Room in My Apartment Building,



Allergic to you. xo

It is next to impossible to do laundry in my building. Seriously. I mean, it’s a friggin miracle if you get a machine.  Know why?

You: No, but I know you’ll tell me.

Me: Damn straight.

My building is connected to two other buildings, via the Freddy Kruger basement. No really, this buidling is from the 20’s and Freddy Kruger seriously lurkes in the shadows of the wooden planked storage units.  I swear it.

Anyhoo, right.  So three buidlings, and grant you, I do live in a lowrise, but still at the lowest common denominator (which I figured out by calculator, because dammit, I’m an artist for a reason and that reason is math), 97 people use this laundry room.  And that’s my estimate assuming that only one person resides in each apartment, which is false.  Imagine the joy.

Guess how many washers.


You: Will you just fucking tell me already. You’re getting annoying.

Me: Whatever man. What the hell are you still reading for, then?

Three. Three machines.


It’s pretty much guaranteed that one of those three machines are out of order.  Pretty much always, even though they are new.

You: Uhm, that’s why they invented laundry mats, genius.

Me: Too bad I live in a ritzy neighbourhood where people pay someone else to cleanse their knickers and therefore such inventions like laundry mats do not exist. And no, I don’t have a car.  And no, I will not carry my dirty clothes in a garbage bag on the subway.  Hell, I won’t even carry free food left-overs.  That’s right, I’m lazy and particular and you better believe I’ll be that way until the very end.

You: Defensive much?

Me: Mostly.

This situation leaves me with thoughts of:

What the hell am I going to wear to work tomorrow?

I wonder if I can get away with giving my clothes a European shower?

Can pull off that not-really-office-attire t-shirt if I put a cardigan over it with and jazz it up with some ridiculous necklace?

How about a crazy hair style so the last thing people notice is my clothing?

Shall I wear a ballgown?

Okay, I don’t own one of those, but if I did… actually I’d probably crawl up in the fetal position and cry, but you know, whatever.

You: What’s wrong with ballgowns?

Me: Everything.

In conclusion, I have no conclusion.  Only tomorrow will tell. Or, that person on the subway that has that who-the-fuck-is-wearing-too-much-perfume look.  Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I’m the one with a seat on the subway because no one will get near you if you smell of excess perfume (or lack there of). Take that! <— I’m not sure who that is aimed towards since in actuality, I’m the one who’s screwed.

Moving on…


2 Responses to “Laundry”

  1. Shawna May 13, 2010 at 1:26 am #

    You just made my day! Haha I HATE doing laundry but I don’t have to creep around any Freddy Kruger basements to get to my washer. Thank Goodness! Good Luck with the whole subway ride tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll find something to wear!

    • silentorchestra May 27, 2010 at 10:31 pm #

      European clothes shower does wonders!

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