Doing laundry on Memorial Day. Sounds pathetic because it is pathetic, but I was not alone today in the Land of the Lame-o. Far from it. The World O’ Laundry here in Glendale was so crowded that I had to park three blocks away. I dragged my sorry hamper into the laundromat only to find that the place was packed to the gills with harried mothers, wild children, and scruffy-looking men, all of whom were probably, like me, down to their last pair of clean knickers. Not an encouraging or particularly hygienic thought.
So, apart from the imminent underwear problem, why was I doing laundry on a holiday? Because it’s cold, and rainy, and overcast here in California. Who wants to go to the beach just to freeze her ass off? Also, I like watching the clothes go round. Yes! I admit it! I like doing laundry! The colors sloshing back and forth, the soap bubbles, the high speed spin cycle – I find all of it strangely relaxing. I find it hypnotic. And, at $2.50 for a three-and-a-half load washer, it’s cheap therapy.
The World O’ Laundry is especially nice because it has a mechanical massage chair. A five-dollar bill buys you 25 minutes of rolling, kneading, buzzing happiness. I try not to think about how many other people have sat in that vibrating naugahyde recliner – maybe not in their last pair of clean knickers but in a desperate pair of dirty drawers. I also ignore the small kids who look at me with big, moist eyes, silently begging me to get out of the chair and let them have a try. Too bad, kids – it’s my five bucks, damn it! You can make do with the video games or the 50-cent mechanical pig.
I will sit in this bizarre bliss, oblivious to my fellow washers, and watch the clothes go round. Maybe, I’ll listen to The Pretenders on my iPod. No, it’s not a holiday at the beach, but damn! It is good. Go figure.
