This morning I dragged myself from the coziness of my comforter to haul sorted laundry to the laundromat that is only 2 blocks from my house. Knowing that the place opened at 7 AM, I wanted to be first to claim the large washers. Forgive me father for I have soiled. It has been two weeks since my last tumble and fold.
In the tiny wash and fold establishment there are only 8 regular capacity washers and 2 triple capacity units. Each washer has a matching size dryer. Without question, this place is not intended for two week's worth of dirty loads from a family of eight including bedding. I represent a family of two. I left the bedding for another day.
When I arrived, no one else was there. That was my intention. With swift motions the two large capacity washers were loaded. By the time I was shoving the last sock in the second washer, a couple had come in. With several other washers open for use, the woman placed her baskets in the same small area where I'd occupied. My purse, keys, baskets and laundry detergent were on the table closest to the washers I was using. On the hook attached to the table she hung her coat and purse.
Violation number one. There is another folding table complete with coat rack.
Two regular capacity washers were utilized by the 1st offender. Her other baskets sat blocking me from my washers.
Normally after I load up my washers, I vacate for the 26 minutes it takes for the washers to complete the cycle. Remember, I only live 2 blocks away. Today, I remained. There was a point to be made about "first come; first served." My space was being invaded.
Once my wash cycles had finished, I promptly took the wet articles and put them in the adjoining large capacity dryers. Before I could even yank the last sock from the washer bin, the 1st offender was shoving her bulky items in the washer. I'm twice her size and surely could have taken her out with the flick of my finger, but I resisted. With great power comes great responsibility.
Before taking a seat to amuse myself with games on my iPod, another woman walked in. With an armful of bedding, she made a direct line to the other available large washer. She and the 1st offender exchanged a pleasant "Buenos dias!" and went about their toils.
Several baskets later, the 2nd offender has now crowded my folding table and access to the large capacity dryers.
The caffeine hadn't yet made it to my blood stream but my blood was reaching a boil. It's not as if there's a line of rabid people with pockets of quarters just waiting to take the big washer and dryers. We're talking laundry, people. It was clear that these two women had no desire to use the 6 other washers and dryers available for use. They'd rather wait all day to use the big units. Even in my most desperate days I wouldn't wait for a big one of anything!
I got up early and hauled my tuchus out in the cold to assure use of the machines I needed to get my task completed quickly. There are dozens of laundromats in Kankakee County. I've used one that is miles away when I have a ton of laundry to do. I get there early on a weekend day. Duh! Most people do laundry on a weekend. The 'mat that is further away is where I go when sheets, comforters and blankets need to be washed. Why? They have triple the large washers and dryers. Simple math.
What's questioned here is consideration. To add to my ire, the 2nd offender had one of her dirty comforters splayed out on the chairs. I'd already claimed a seat next to a little table. So, at least I had that going for me, but who wants to sit next to someone else's funky assed bedding?
When one dryer stopped, I immediately pulled the clothes out. There were items still damp, but I figured I could just hang them up at home. Out of spite I did consider just putting in another quarter without even bothering to check for dryness. Before I could get that load folded, the 1st offender was pointing at my second dryer which had just barely come to a halt. She jabbered in a tone not unlike Andy Kaufman's Latka. I shot her the look of death and said, "I'll get it in a minute."
I made my way through the maze of an obstacle course these two idiots had made in order to get to the dryer. A furious, "for God's sake" eeked from my lips. Shoving the hot clothes into my basket and, for effect, a hearty harumph as I toted it to my folding table.
Knowing very well that the items shoved in the basket would wrinkle, I didn't bother folding. I hate to iron, but there was no way I could maintain cool if I stayed there another moment. Fortunately, that wrinkled load was comprised of pajamas, underwear and socks. The first load was sloppily folded and thrown in another empty basket and loaded in car. When I returned to get the remainder of my things, the two women were babbling in their mother tongue and pointing at my bin of wrinkling apparel. To which I shot another dirty look and made a grand gesture toward the folding table, "it's alllllllll yours!"
Other expletives were muttered under my breath as I flung open the door and made my exit.
I guess it could have been worse. Asshat Running Man could have been there to annoy me with his Zoolanderian looks.