Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Chronicles from the Wash House

We are renovating our house right now. Started last week, the Tuesday after Memorial Day. I am without my washer and dryer. My first visit to the nearest laundromat was this past monday. I'm going to try to write a little each time I go, mostly because this little hub is large with activity.

Monday, June 3
My first "house renovation" visit to the Wash House. Actually, the name painted on the walls is " 'lectric Wash House" . Not sure why they didn't put the E there, but they didn't. I've been to this laundromat before, when the washer died two years ago. It's open, clean, but there is literally NOTHING to do while your clothes are tumbling.
I don't surf the net on my phone. My phone is too small and slow, my eyes too old and slow. I start the 3 washers and watch the timer click ON to 31 minutes. I sit on one of the most uncomfortable benches on the planet and watch the lady across from me with her book. Oh - a book! Why didn't I think to bring something to read? Because I'm not in school right now, so technically I don't have anything to read.
I decide the benches are so uncomfortable to keep the riff-raff that hang out along Telegraph Ave from sleeping on them. It's not that they are bumpy or metal or jagged or anything. The seat portion angles back, so that if you are borderline short, your feet wouldn't touch the ground.Very awkward. After about 10 minutes of trying to look like I have mastered finding the sweet spot on the bench, I get up for a walk around the outside of the House.
Not necessarily the smartest thing to do. First discovery around the corner was a used condom. For reals. There HAVE to be more romantic places to do this and really, the thing was tossed on the ground maybe 5' from the garbage can. I started thinking about the poor (hopefully gloved) sap who cleaned the parking lot and discovered it too. Would they pretend not to see it, so they didn't have to pick it up? Or just deal with it as they do every time they find one there? Either way, I felt bad for them.
Make it all the way around the rest of the building with no other discoveries. UNTIL I get to where my car is parked. I lean against it for warmth, as the sun was mostly hiding behind the clouds that day. As I start paying attention to the playful pigeons in the parking lot, I realize spring has sprung, and they got the fever. At least one set of pigeons were going for it, right there in front of me. National Geographic, live in Oakland, only I can't change the channel.
Ah well, maybe next time will be better.

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