Damn the Man
My plan tonight was simple: groceries, gym, laundry. I know, my life is so glamorous. However, after throwing a load in the wash, I realized I needed to reload my card. (This laundry room doesn't take quarters, only cards that can be filled with $10 or $20 at a time. LAME.)
I went to the machine only to find that it was missing. Apparently, the machine had been stolen, and until it was replaced, cards could be purchased in the rental office for $40. Who wants to put $40 on a laundry card at once? And furthermore, who is available between the hours of 9am and 6pm to purchase these cards? This is why I hate my apartment management company.
So I was left with the dilemma of the wet laundry. I don't know any of my neighbors (and after seeing a tranny in the elevator last weekend, I don't think I want to) so I couldn't borrow a laundry card. I remembered a scene in Uncle Buck, where he dries laundry in the microwave, but that seemed like too much work. So I ended up draping wet laundry on every available surface in my apartment.
I would include a picture, but it just looks way too pathetic in here.
3 comments:
Yesterday morning, around 7:00 a.m. our washing machine broke away from the laundry tubs and spewed water all over the laundry room. If we would have left for work ten minutes earlier -- the water would have been running ALL DAY.
Disaster averted.
The dehumidifier is running on 10 and the floor has been cleaned up.
Damn home ownership.
What's a tranny in the elevator? Is that, as in, "transmission?" Still not as bad as the guys who lived in my old schoolhouse apartment building in Portland, who all rode their motorcycles up the steps to the 3rd floor, into their apartment, so they could work on their bikes. Yes, they ran them.
Sorry for your laundry woes.
I have one of the few decent laundry machines I've seen in cairo. It's next to the oven, super classy style. But it only holds about three pairs of underwear at a time, only uses cold water and doesn't really get things clean.
Then I hang them out to dry off the balcony like a real egyptian. Socks hanging from a balcony are so hot.
I can pay a little boy to pick up and deliver my laundry for like 20 cents, but the seem to like to ruin my clothes out of spite. So it's back to the balcony....
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