I usually don't do laundry on the weekends because the laundromat that I prefer to go to is more crowded than McCarthy's on St. Patty's day over the weekend. I don't know what had gotten into me (maybe it was the plague) but I decided to go even though it was clearly a Saturday.
There is always something enjoyable about doing your laundry in a public place. Under the normal guidelines of my personality, I should in no way be ok with doing my laundry in public, but I think the joy I take away from the experience far outweighs any stage fright I feel when faced with the idea of my undisclosed undergarments floating round-and-round in a glass-faced dryer for the world to see. This Saturday was no exception.
I arrived at the laundromat to find that it was completely packed, and not one laundry cart was free. I tossed my laundry sack on my back like the worst Santa Claus impersonator you've ever seen, and lugged it into the place. Next step: finding free washers. After this was settled and my laundry was washing, I had a chance to look around a bit. This older woman who had been there since I walked in the door caught my eye.
There was just something strange about her. Maybe it was her brightly colored mumu and rubber shoes. Could it be the way she was making an inconsistant circuit around the room while pouring cheetos and figs from their respective bags directly into her mouth? Or maybe it was the odd smell emanating from her person. Sort of a mix of cantaloupe and rubbing alcohol. I just couldn't place it. I notice she's obsessively checking her clothing in a corner dryer, more than once every two or three minutes, and then completing another circuit around the room, switching out her bag of cheetos for the figs, or vice-versa, each time. Not until later did I figure out what was going on here. After every dryness check, she was walking back around the room and sanitizing her hands while switching snacks.
Apparently, I missed a day of home economics. The day when they explain to you that the hand sanitizer cycle comes directly before spin, and right after rinse. All this time, my laundry has NOT been sanitary enough. I'll have to buy myself an industrial size hand sanitizer for my next trip to the L-mat.
Later on I learned something from the dryer as well. I have been so careless in my laundry endeavors. Thank the gods for these ever-so-usefull instructions.
I don't know about everyone else, but I doubt I've been making a thorough enough check for children, pets, and illegally immigrated objects BEFORE loading the dryer. I mean, when it's completely empty like that, there's a good chance I'd never see a child, or pet, or crepe hiding in there!!
And finally, on my way to drop off Becca at Aaron's house tonight, my car became the victim of an act of random canine violence.
That's right. A dog. A dog hit my car. He ran right into me at a stop sign. I was barely even moving and BLAMO. I can not be held responsible for the actions of careless animals. Dogs, chipmunks, pandas, squirrels, owls... If you're going to make an effort to toss your carcass under my tires, I'm not going to make an effort to miss you. That is all.