Monday, January 29, 2007

Rugged Laundrette

Okay, I have a laundromat fetish. I blame movies for romanticizing them (think Ethan Hawke's Hamlet), but I have always wanted to live in a dumpy little walk-up on the lower east side where I had to drag my laundry down to the corner. The books I'd read, the tunes I'd jam to, the cool-crazy-hot people I'd met or flirt with. Not to mention the economies of scale (well, for time, not cost)! Running eight loads at once! LAUNDRY CARTS!

Before tonight I had only been twice before, and both in college. [Another thing I failed to do in New York.] The first time Grace, Hoopera, and I went for a late night run so we could do everyone's at once. We went to a gleaming Hyattsville establishment that shone like a beacon on a hill from all the florescence--I wish I could remember the catchy name. I still have great memories (and the pictures to back them up). The second time was when Big Floppy DD's (I seriously suck at this pseudonym game) mattress was a victim of constant 8709 wars, and we tried to find a place that could take the entire garlic fermented, muddy, waterlogged bed. Like an I Love Lucy skit, it erupted from every industrial washer we crammed it into.

Tonight, I got my first urban laundromat experience. And as you can see, I'm sporting ten days of rugged not shaving. Still, it was less than I expected. I'm happy to save the massive frontloading machines easily took my comforter and mattress pad (the Speed Queen was such a bottom), but the place was generally dingy, the clientele was not hot, and the raging drunk made for an uncomfortable atmosphere. I can't believe this alternate world exists but two blocks from my apartment. Still, for $14, those two loads were a steal, and all in under 90 minutes.

[p.s. - I've never gone this long without a shave. Even if MOSI hates it, we're going to have to wait until he can bring clippers and fight back the bush for me.]

[p.p.s. - Is MOSI such a bad pseudonym? I could call him Mighty Mouse. Or conojito. Those would make even less sense, right? At least you can search the history of MOSI. As long as he isn't complaining, it stays.]

*Did I mention that the "24 Hour Laundromat" closed at 9 p.m.?! Thus the reason I was racing around to get there in time. I mean, that's its frigin NAME, 24 Hour Laundromat. This irks me beyond belief. Maybe because no laundromat can be hip if it isn't open 24 hours. A bar would have been nice too. At least a pool table. Maybe I just don't like liars.

I have a 24 hour laundromat that I haul my stuff to. While I have yet to test it on its supposed 24 hour-ness, a few bazillion heavy trips will surely break anyone of any laundromat romanticism.

And then there was the time I had to lug my laundry down four flights of stairs and four blocks to the laundromat across the street from the projects . . . in Bushwick . . .
1) I heart the hairy ruggedness, poor MOSI, so much jaw burn!

2) Stick with MOSI. It to much trouble to change it now.

3) I am very glad that I don't get to the "Big Floppy DD's" pseudonym.

4) I really hate doing my laundry in public spaces, but it's just like to enjoy it you weirdo.
1. that is a super hot picture of you.
2. Laundry mats are only hot when Ethan Hawke is there
3. I love the name MOSI
Ok, so everytime I go to your blog, I peek at that picture, and kinda get a butterfly feeling... I love it!
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