Feb 16, 2012

Our washing machine has not been working well with any sort of consistency. We start a load and then the machine reads out – F01 – and quits spinning.

Less than endearing words are shared with anyone in the general vicinity. A few days pass and then we call the repairman. We’ve actually been visited by several repairmen. We call, set up a time, wait patiently for them to come. And when they arrive one of us takes them to the washer.
They spend time doing stuff, but it’s not the right magical stuff, because what ever they do, whatever diagnostics they perform, the machine fairly soon quits spinning.
So James and Matthew have gotten to know Pasadena Laundry really well. I hadn’t gone because I have an aversion to some of the dynamics I’ve seen at Laundromats.
Once I was at a laundromat and a charming little girl was singing out loud. Her voice was sweet and soft as she sang a nursery rhyme. The lady with her began to tell her to be quiet and was just short of mocking the child. It made me rather angry with the adult and then I saw how frustrated the lady looked. There are teachable moments and there are howling in the wind moments. Sigh. Then there are the scary people that make me concerned for my person or my possessions. I’m a bit of a wimp – not enough New York in me, I guess.
On Super Bowl Sunday the piles of laundry were so high I couldn’t let James do the laundry by himself – that would have been too much. So off we went and came out when it was dark. The experience wasn’t bad at all.
I’ve since been back one more time. Both times the place has been incredibly clean – machines easy to use, folks on site sweeping the floor – it doesn’t feel the least bit icky.
I keep hoping that the F01 mystery will be solved. Doing laundry any place other than home is a nuisance. But my favorite laundromat makes the visit bearable. I’m thinking I might even try the barcalounger next time I visit.

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