We made going to the laundromat fun
- col-teri-stein
- July 3, 2023
- 531
I have fond memories of going to the laundromat. It was something my sister and I did twice each week while we lived at home with our family. At one time there were eight of us all under the same roof. Our mom would sometimes drop us off on her way to work, and when we got older, we drove ourselves.
Washers and dryers were less expensive to operate than they are today, and it seemed more economical, both in time and money, to get the laundry all done and folded at one time. Except that a few days later, back to the laundromat we’d go to do it all over again.
We made going to the laundromat as fun as it could possibly be. Mom always gave us some extra money, so once our clothes were in the washers, we headed down the street to the bakery and got brownies. Yum!
The laundromat had some large tables for folding, and we always grabbed our favorite one by the jukebox. After scarfing down some brownies, we turned to folding clothes while listening to music.
One favorite laundromat song was “Maggie May” by Rod Stewart. It came out in July 1971. Now every time I hear “Maggie May” on the radio I think of our laundromat days.
At that time the laundromat had an attendant who was there during the day to help everybody and clean. I think as part of their business, the laundromat provided a service where they did laundry for other people, and she may have helped with that.
This laundromat person was about our age, and we enjoyed talking with her when we were there. We even knew who her boyfriend was and what kind of car he drove. Did I say we spent a lot of time there?
But then right out of high school, my sister got married. I think she did it just to get out of going to the laundromat because then I had to go do all that laundry by myself. That’s why I soon got married six months after my sister. After that, a new washer and dryer appeared in my parents' basement.
Most of my married life, I’ve had my own washer and dryer, which is convenient. But I still went to the laundromat here and there. Never had a problem, but fast forward to a week ago.
My sister and I decided to go to the laundromat together because we had some rugs and bulky items we needed to wash. There’s safety and more fun in numbers.
As soon as we got there, we were greeted by a very friendly man who did a lot of smiling at us. He said he spoke another language, and we said we only speak English. Striking up a casual conversation was out for the moment. We figured he was there to do laundry like the rest of us.
We saw Mr. Friendly wandering around the laundromat talking to some of the other patrons. But we didn’t pay much attention to what he was doing. Pretty soon, here comes Mr. Friendly back to show us a message on his phone. He was panhandling — in the laundromat.
We politely declined, and a short time later, he left without any laundry. About five minutes after that, the police arrived. It appears one of the other patrons, who had a child with her, was nervous about him being there. She knew he wasn’t doing laundry.
My sister and I were just relieved he had left without a problem. Surely, the rest of our laundromat experience would be a good one.
But then a new person came in the laundromat. He was actually doing laundry, so no problem. Our laundry was in the dryers, and we took some pieces out that had dried first to fold. My sister was helping me fold a big bed covering when all of the sudden I smelled it.
It was the distinct odor of something that is illegal to use recreationally but is sometimes used medically. I started to cough and couldn’t catch my breath. I thought I was going to drop my end of the bed covering, but I hung in there. My sister is olfactory challenged. She didn’t smell it. I told her what was happening.
Now we were worried. What if that smell attached itself to our nice, clean laundry? What would people think? We packed up as fast as we could and got out of there.
But we always think the best of our fellow laundromat patrons. Surely that person had an emergency medical need to be smoking in the laundromat bathroom.
I’m sure these were freak, isolated incidents, and we will go back — but with 911 on speed dial.