Day Nine

The washing machine seems to be a poor beast in the world of machinery. It never gets the credit it deserves does it? I mean we will praise the microwave until the cows come home, and of course we should, thanks to that wonderful device we can eat plastic-flavoured pasta products in less than three minutes.


The toaster? Wow! Instead of having to wait 2 minutes under a grill and have the mundane task of having to turn it over half way, just pop down and there you have it, perfectly burnt toast in half the time. But the washing machine never gets that love. It’s surprising really, because when you consider how long it would take you to actually wash your clothes without one... I mean it’s just in, press and leave.
And that’s where my problem lies today... the leaving.
I live with three other people. All three need clean clothes and so that’s fine I don’t mind waiting for all washing to be done to do mine. What I do mind is when they leave the washing in there... for what seems like EVER!!!!
So I woke up this morning and thought: I better get that washing done. And as I had three hours before work, I decided if I put it in before work, I can take it out just before I have to leave and then sort out the drying part later. Perfect! So I gathered the bag, the powder and went into the kitchen to the trusty the washer... the full washer... now as I didn’t notice if it was full yesterday and I didn’t hear any machine going through the night, the washing must have been there for some time. I opened it... and of course... with two women and one guy, what are the odds it’s full of female clothing? Any takers? This of course led me to the dilemma: Do I move them? I mean it’s not like I’m going to go through it all, check sizes, try it on and then take pictures of myself... not while they’re still wet anyway.
I tossed a coin and then decided to bite the bagel (nope) and moved the clothes, figuring that if I can get the washing done before I go I can just put the clothes back afterwards. Genius.
So I put them in and for some reason the default setting is Max Load. I didn’t realise this and saw the luminous clock on the front gazing at me like the eyes of some evil swamp creature:
‘2:36’
I mean come on! It doesn’t take that long to wash clothes... Does it?
Granted I’ve never timed a washing machine before, but that did seem a little excessive. So I looked at my watch, I had to leave in approximately two and a half hours, granted I may be able to wait an extra six minutes and then just walk/jog/run a bit faster to work. So I waited... and waited... and waited.
I got to my failsafe point and still the luminous clock glared at me
‘0:13’
What? No way? That isn’t possible, not unless the machine stopped halfway to have a nap! And so I decided to put the other person’s clothes in the dryer. Correction, that’s what I would have done if... yes you guessed it... the dryer was also full... of more women’s clothes. I mean come on, this isn’t fair! So as I simply did not have the time to be messing around with two lots of clothes, I simply left it all and decided: ‘Fuck it! If they complain, they complain.’
I went to work and came back. Seriously there is no point in filling in that five hour gap really as all I did was answer calls and try and help solve people’s issues. It’s not as bad as selling or cold calling, but the people you speak to seem to lean towards the incredibly stupid and the just plain ridiculous. I’m sure I’ll come back to this another time, but for now... clock in, clock out.
So I get home. Enter and find the clothes that were on the washing machine gone. My clothes were still in the machine and it had finally, finally done its full cycle. So I took them out and proceeded to put them in... Oh for God’s sake! Yes, she had picked her clothes up, put them in the dryer and left them there. I gave up. Scooping my clothes up I left for my room where I proceeded to make use of the radiators to dry them.
Later, I was sitting reading the atrocious new Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy book by Eoin Colfer And Another Thing... who seems to think that putting little asides by The Guide constitutes as comedy, when yes the first two or three are amusing, but the rest are like being beaten around the head and neck with a rubber chicken... I heard a few voices in the kitchen and I heard or think I heard one saying ‘...him touching my clothes...’ If I hadn’t been very comfy at the time, I would have gone out and said ‘If you don’t want me to touch your clothes then don’t leave them in the washing machine for days on end!’
I shudder to imagine what would have happened if we didn’t have the washing machine.
Bless the poor mechanical thing!