the Bucky Four-Eyes Cotillion

Saturday, January 14, 2006

Series 8, my ass


It's been too long since I've waxed philosophical about the laundromat. Actually, it's just been too long since I've been to the laundromat. Oops!

But I didn't come here to air my dirty laundry. Not today, anyway.

My long, long-overdue trip to the laund-O-rama started out blissfully enough, with a whole row of machines waiting for me, just for me, and my soap wasn't frozen. I like it when the laundry begins like that. I'm easy to please, folks. When it came time to dry, I was pleased to find six consecutive dryers empty on the Wall of Good Dryers.

Laundromat 2
The bank on the right is the Wall of Good Dryers. All the other dryers in this place are crap.

It was great. I set my carts in front of my dryers and skipped out to grab some lunch. When I returned with some food that I really shouldn't have but do anyway, but don't tell my doctor, ssshhhhhh, I noticed a big red van was parked by the door. As I ate and waited for my clothes to dry, I noticed an unusually large and unruly group of children running between the laundromat and the red van, back and forth, back and forth.

When I was ready to go inside, I realized it was even worse than I had imagined. The front of the laundromat was swarming with what I presume to be the offspring of the two adults in the middle of the swarm. It was stunning; there were so many of them, and they were in such constant motion, and there was such chaos, that there was no proper way for me to count them. I'm prepared to say there were at least six, but I suspect more, many more than that.

All the carts people had set in front of their dryers were gone, now in the hands of what I began to think of as the Scavenger Children. I hunted around and found a couple of carts and began to unload my dry clothes, and as the Scavenger Children ran, screamed, touched things not theirs, and generally rampaged as their mom and dad halfheartedly admonished them, "Now, get over here!" I began to think of the parents as the type who would send their children into a neighbor's burning trailer to grab valuables (to keep). An older gentleman tapped me on the shoulder and asked, a touch accusingly, "Did you 'borrow' the cart I had here?" I indicated that I had not, but he kept looking at me suspiciously the rest of the time we were there. I'd seen the "Sportsmen for Bush" bumper sticker on his car, and I really hoped it wouldn't be a shooting offense to him. I just don't wanna be shot for a cart I never took, anyway. Mister, look around - obviously, the Scavenger Children took it.

The whole laundromat was swirling with the thunder of children gone completely out of control. I traded a number of "Oh my god!" raised-eyebrow looks with nearby patrons (except for mister "borrowed" cart, who continued to give me sour looks for the duration - I think my shades and my hippie hair put him off). When their wash was loaded at last, the whole army was trundled out to the van, presumably to make life a living hell for some shopkeeper or restauranteur while the clothes washed.

I came away from the laundromat with two words in mind: Birth control. If only it could be retroactive in some cases.

Oh, and remember this vending machine?


Well, there's a reason it's a hand-drawn sign and not a placard featuring Series 8 Homies - because it's still full of Series fucking 7 Homies! I fear I will have to go to Pro-Clean just to get my Series 8 Homies. Sure, I could just order all of Series 8 from the Homies web site, but that's not the point. It's the thrill of the vending machine that gets me, the dropping of the plastic egg, that little moment of not knowing which one is inside. But when it's the same ones I've been getting for months already, well, as BB King once lamented, the thrill is gone.

13 of you felt the overwhelming need to say somethin':

Blogger Opera Gal said...

Monday I will send you a photo of my laundry, which makes up in boredom what you in get in noise, gunshot holes n the windows, homies and children.
I will happily take Series 7 Homies, because I can't get any here at all, even in ProClean.

10:45 PM, January 14, 2006  
Blogger RedPita said...

Yesterday I too was at the laundry mat giving raised eyebrows to people about an unruly child.. but ooops, the unruly one was mine. I left the place with one eye twitching, the need for a stiff drink and the thought 'Thank God Jay had a vasectomy".

Right there with ya babe.

10:59 PM, January 14, 2006  
Blogger Unknown said...

Don't you hate it when you go anywhere public and the entire Osmond/VanTrapp families have congregated and their over-sugared offspring are bouncing off the walls?

Now I realize that sometimes a parent can't help it and they're just as mortified by the child's behavior as we are. And I realize that we should be more tolerant. But dammit, it's not a pleasant experience and it's cool to bitch. :)

I hope you find your homies. It's important to have some sort of religion in one's life.

11:10 PM, January 14, 2006  
Blogger Unknown said...

I avoid laundromats as if they were the plague. Bucky, you just reminded me why I do so.

12:26 AM, January 15, 2006  
Blogger I'm not here. said...

This reminds me of why I don't reproduce. :o)

2:11 AM, January 15, 2006  
Blogger Squirl said...

Laundromats really suck. You know, you can actually go to a laundromat to buy your Homies without doing your clothes there. I don't believe there's any law, or a two-washer minimum or anything.

I hate when people let their kids run like crazy. I might've been tempted to grab carts directly away from the kids for my use whilst giving the parents the evil eye.

7:16 AM, January 15, 2006  
Blogger Madame D said...

I have one, and while sometimes he may seem like 19 children at once, I suddenly don't feel so bad about being the evil mommy in public who is constantly telling him not to do something, and to come next to me.
I hate unruly children as well. I want to go slap the parents.

9:45 AM, January 15, 2006  
Blogger Mr. Bloggerific Himself said...

Bucky share your toys next time and they won't freak out like that, you stingy thang you.

If that doesn't work, hand out lots and lots of free semi-melted chocolate to fuel them up for the ride home.

Or go walking around without bending your knees and use your Mr. Deep Voice and do that Fee-Fi-Fo-Fum bit

10:33 AM, January 15, 2006  
Blogger Pissy Britches said...

Holy shit.
That sounds like every laundry mat around here. Seriously, people don't know when to stop having kids around here. Several years ago I had to go to the laundry mat to do our the HOOOD. It would always be totally fucking nuts. Either drunks or ho's or 50 kids or some shit.

10:45 AM, January 15, 2006  
Blogger PlazaJen said...

I'd bet 50 Homies those people with the Scavenger Children finished doing their laundry, and took 'em all to the movies. R-rated.

5:04 PM, January 15, 2006  
Blogger Mr. Bloggerific Himself said...

Don't forget to fight the good fight every moment.

6:49 PM, January 15, 2006  
Blogger Unknown said...

A photo of laundry! That's fabulous! I'm going to do that, too.

Ritapita -- that's exactly why I went to the grocery store WITHOUT my kids yesterday. It was Hubby's turn to be in need of a stiff drink. :)

Sorry about the no new Homies, Bucky. You know, Squirl may be on to something there...

A friend of mine used to tell me that one kid can seem like two, and two kids can seem like ten. Three isn't an improvement, lemme tell you... I might have to go slap myself.

9:45 AM, January 16, 2006  
Blogger hemlock said...

Oh yes. The joys of the laundromat.

Seeing as I've never had my own proper laundry facilities, I am forced to visit "Barb's" on a regular basis. Sometimes I just want to put said children in the dryer. **just for a few spins...**

As for the Homies. How can they be allowed to use false advertizing like that? Sheesh.

10:00 AM, January 16, 2006  

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