Caterwauling

I’d declared Sunday to be laundry day. However, it didn’t want to declare it back.

I decided I needed to wash two loads. Could’ve done more, but it’s all about goals, people. Besides, it took me 90 minutes to get a washer in the first place.

The thing is, I can understand that our measly two washers on our floor are always taken. That’s fine. But those bitches had been stopped for an hour. An hour, unattended! The thing is, there is no way in hell I am touching anyone’s nasty-ass gutchies with my hands. I don’t care that they’ve (hopefully) used soap. I don’t want anyone touching my stuff, and I will return the courtesy. Not to mention, if there are only two machines, it’s rude to use them both. And as a personal rule, I only use one machine at a time. Courtesy, peeps.

So I was angrily storming around in flip-flops, slamming doors wherever possible — anything to alert the offender to get their stupid ass in to take care of their skivvies. Finally — finally! — I was making a racket when a door opened. It was the door NEXT to the laundry room. Lazy asshole. He was blaring music and smelled funky. Yay. I thought we paid out the ass here to keep out the riff-raff. Coulda fooled me.

So I waited awhile for him to get his shit into the dryer and I washed two consecutive loads. And here’s a helpful hint: Putting your crap in the washer someone neglects is all well and good until you need that dryer. And not only is the wash cycle 35 minutes to the dryer’s 60, but you didn’t actually think he was going to be prompt with emptying that, either, did you? I dragged lots of wet crap to air-dry from various lamps, shower rods and assorted bookcases. Because that’s not a pain in the ass.

The guy did come to empty a dryer when I was tending to my second load. And the smell was familiar — boyfriend reeked of weed. He was nice to me, if not spaced the hell out. The stuff smelled high-quality. 😉 Doesn’t he know that it’s not nice to NOT share?!?! LOL. (Yeah, laundry? What laundry? *sniff*)

I’d thought about going up a couple of floors and telling the cop who lives here about it. The cop that I, oh, have had a date or two with. (*blush*) 😀 But, alas, I decided not to create a hot fuss because, hey, maybe I can stand outside Smokey’s door and get a nice contact high once in awhile. 😉

I’m starting to like this city after all!

This entry was posted on Tuesday, June 27th, 2006 at 8:51 PM and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.