I am seriously thinking about just washing my clothes in a giant tub and stomping around like Lucy did when trying to make wine... only drunker.
I figure it'll make my clothes cleaner and also give me the much needed exercise my butt needs. I'm just hoping I won't land face down in the tub and then accidentally drown myself in the process.
As a matter of fact, I'm going to market that as the new weight loss fad and I will only charge you, because we're buddies, $29.99 (tub, water, soap, booze and clothes not included). No need to thank me for the special offer, it is my pleasure.
We tried yet another Laundromat from hell and this one provided us with some unwanted entertainment. There was a couple there with 3 kids who came to do laundry as a family. Right now you're thinking "Family bonding over suds and fabric softener? How cute!" You'd be wrong though. It seems the guy might have been checking out some chicks and the wife went ballistic (as she should) at his eye-wandering sorry ass.
Now, if they didn't have those little tykes as witnesses to their horrible behavior, I would have grabbed some popcorn and enjoyed the show. Instead their kids just kind of stood by silently while their father called their mother a bitch and their mother mocked their father by implying he wasn't much of a man.
Here are some random little snippets from these paragons of parenthood:
I don't give a fuck whose listening! (maybe I should have stopped walking back and forth looking for change?)
What about the kids? They're kids! They won't remember this later! (au contraire mon ignorant douche, I remember each and every argument my parents had)
Oh please! Like you would know what to do with one of those women if you had them! (he has 3 kids, I think he'd know)
Don't push me! I'll call the cops!
Do you think I care if I'm locked up? I don't give a fuck!
Where is the goddamn attendant?
I don't know! It's not like I own the place!
Yes this is your place! You're the one who wanted to live in the fuckin suburbs!
Wait a second! Do not go offending my little suburb! That was over the line buddy!
Now we are at the nucleus of the problem. He was taking out his frustration on his wife because he feels he would get better treatment in a Laundromat located in Chicago. I hate to break it to you sweety but THEY ALL SUCK. Be it here, France or the moon, they're all dingy, dirty and smelly. I remember hearing about one in New York that had a bar in it. That one sucks too but you're too drunk to figure it out until you wake up with a hangover the next day and wonder why there are rats mixed in with your whites.
We can't get a new washer until the laundry room is rebuilt which is closer to being finished than not but oh dear lord is it dragging.
So anyway, if you're looking for me, I'll be in the backyard playing a fiddle while I'm knee deep in sudsy water and dancing a jig.
"I can't reach the clothes line, Pa'!"
You guys were all extremely supportive of my new movie making endevour but I snorted when I read: