For a while now, I’ve been going to the laundromat whenever I need to wash my clothes. This isn’t a strange phenomenon, given that people who live in apartments without a laundry room in the basement have to use laundromats, and students at colleges (or at least, the school I went to) who live in the dorms have to pay to use the laundry machines. That said–and no offense meant to people who own or work at laundromats–I really, really hate having to go.
In brief, here are some of the reasons why I hate laundromats:
- Front-load washing machines are the worst.
- Making the decision between having to hang out at the laundromat to make sure other patrons aren’t stealing your clothes (which, hey, happens!) or being able to do other things during the time between throwing your laundry into a machine and when you have to take it out (and hoping that people don’t steal your clothes) is difficult.
- Folding your clothing (including your underwear) in front of people is uncomfortable, especially when for some reason they keep coming over to stare at you while you do so.
- Everything is coin operated, but only on quarters, and sometimes it can cost around $6 to do one load.
- The nearest laundromat to me is almost two miles away, which means I have to drive to do laundry.
- Since I have to be in public, there’s the expectation that I’ll actually be dressed and ready to be seen in public–and everyone knows that it’s easier to do laundry in your pajamas.
The price of doing laundry is what bothers me the most though, I think. To be fair, if I did have an operating machine at home, I would still technically be paying for it because of the electricity and water used.
In any case, I’m venting more than complaining about a serious problem. I will always hate front-loading washing machines because they’ve always been more prone to leaking, and because my time in college dorms has taught me that they take longer to do a load than top-loading washing machines. I’m always going to be uncomfortable with people–particularly older men–staring at me, and it’s worse when I’m folding my skivvies because: why wouldn’t it be? And of course, there’s always going to be complaining whenever I have to pay for something that needs to be done anyway.