I went to my favorite little laundromat today to get my bi-weekly cleaning done. The place always has about 10 women, all chattering away in spanish, while folding laundry and keeping their kids in line. I like to try and pick up on their conversations, based on what I already know. It's pretty futile, since the only sentence I would understand completely would be "Tomorrow, father and mother don't understand spanish. Turn right. Turn left. One, two, three..." It's still fun to try.

I used a couple of the triple-load washers because they work a little faster. I had loaded one completely up and even dumped my detergent in when I found out the coin acceptor wasn't working. I've never been one to kick up any fuss with management, so I simply unloaded it all into another washer, after making sure the next one took my money.

So then I went and sat on these benches at the front of the store, which are actually quite comfortable, to watch the clock for about 20 minutes. That's when a woman in her forties came in with an airport luggage bag on rollers. She put it next to the washer I'd taken my clothes out of, and went to get her quarters. I thought to myself "Well, she's going to figure this one out on her own. I had to."

Just as I'm thinking that, she comes back and starts to load her laundry - piece by piece. She'd put a pair of shorts in the bottom (front-loading washer) and sprinkle some detergent on top. Then she'd lay another pair on top and sprinkle some more detergent. She actually went through about 50 pieces of laundry, sprinkling the top of every single item of clothing.

At first, I wanted to say something, but for some reason (probably that I thought it was funny) I just kept staring. The procedure was ludicrous - not to mention my soap was still loaded in the top. All in all, it took about 15 minutes just to load up her clothes. Then, sure enough, the machine wouldn't take the quarters. I was half amused and half thinking "I'm going to hell for that one."

Finally she called the manager over and he hit it with his fist a couple times to make it work. I was actually relieved, since I decided to be a jerk and not say anything. Then the woman sat on the bench next to the door and let her head fall back against the glass window. Blissfully aware that every piece of clothing had it's own little meticulously deposited portion of soap.

I've also learned that I need new socks. It's never made quite as painfully obvious as when you're washing them in public. I kept wondering how they got to be so damn dirty. It looks like I've been washing the kitchen floor with them. I had to go to plan B and drop them in the bottom of the basket so I could bail without anyone seeing I don't know how to use bleach.

It wasn't the best $30 I've ever spent for an hour by myself, but it wasn't the worst.