Susan Luzzaro 5:30 p.m., Dec. 7
"Call it Peace, Call It Reason-- Call It Hate, Or Call It Treason... But I Ain't Marching No More!" --from the '60 song "I Ain't Marching No More."
6-Aug-2010 Ohhhh...what does that clock say?
15:15hrs? Uh-Oh--wasn't supposed to nap THAT long! Must have been more tired out that I thought! And I still have laundry to do...no change, so I cannot use the complex laundry room.
And I still have to get my clothes washed! PLUS--I NEED CHANGE FOR THE BLASTED MACHINES!
Well, time for Plan Bravo. Since I have the wash money I need in BILL form, why not hie my butt down to the local laundromat?
So, I haul out my "Laundry Only" cart and start loading the goods. I put my bottle of Arm & Hammer Laundry Deterget in my backpack, along with three bottles of chilled tea. I open the door, pop the car out first, and begin my trek to the Fransiscan Laundromat. It's about a ten minute walk friom my apartment complex.
Ten minutes later, I haul the cart into the laundromat. I walk over, open my "cash pouch, " and pull out the bills required to get three loads of filthy cloths clean. Change in pocket, I go back to my cart and push it to the bank of machines I will be using.
Each machine costs $3.50 to run a load, and they are all front loading. I load up the three with my stinky clothing, put a load of laundery soap into each of the holders, then "coin up" each machine and let the washing begin!
I park my carcass in the chair nearest the door, making sure I fit my cart under the Soap Vending Machine first. I pull out a bottle of tea and a book ("The Westies" by T.J. English), then do what both seasoned soldiers and saints do best...sit and wait. The TV is broadcasting some "novella en Espanol (just great, a "sudser in a suds joint!")" that nobody is paying attention to.
It takes about one hour for my loads to get de-stinkified...then it's time for Act Two, the longest act here. I grab a cart, load my freshly washed clothing into it, then run it over to Dryer Number One. A few minutes later, I slip the quarters into the machine and set it for 96 minutes (all three loads are in one dryer).
Now, you might wonder why this place is called "The Franciscan Laundromat" to begin with. It has nothing to do with the Scared Order of Saint Francis Of Assisi. The laundromat is located in the main parking lot of the Franciscan Hotel--a place that used to be rather popular...but has fallen on hard times.
The census while I'm at the laundromat is only four people. No kids, no street people. And no way to catch the Hall-Of-Fame game between Dallas and Cincinatti (the TV is permanently set to a Spanish-speaking station). Oh, well, at least I'll have clean clothes to take home with me.
One trip to Mickey D's (to put something in my tummy until dinnertime...a extra-large Diet Coke and a large fries, if you must know) and two bottles of chilled tea later, all is done except the folding and re-packing of the laundry cart. After I fold everything, I plop the towels in first, then the undershorts, socks, t-shirts, pants, and polo shirts (in that order), don my backpack (with everything back inside), and haul tuckus back for the apartment (it's now 19:30 hours).
After I stash my clothes, I get ready for Phase Two--my bedclothes. I cashed in a twenty dollar bill at the laundromat's bill changer, so I have enough cash to do the work. I strip the bed, load the cart--and off to the complex laundry room I go!
21:05--Regina, our complex manager, asks if I'm drying laundry. I tell her yes, and that after I'm finished, the door will be secured for the night. I retrieve my bedclothes at 21:40, latch the door lock, turn off the light, and secure the laundry-room (it took so long because somebody was not watching the time on their wash,).
23:20--Bed's made, dinner eaten (spareribs on grill), body showered...off to dreamland!
Thus endeth the Laundromat Shuffle--for now!