My beautiful Laundromat.

This update comes to you from the Melbourne City Dry Cleaners and Self-Service Laundromat, 244 Russell Street. I’m balancing my laptop on my knee as I sit on a long fake wood veneer bench in front of a row of Speed Queen, Commercial Washers that promise Ultra High Efficiency. One other machine wobbles with anonymous delicates. It was a bit of a walk to get here but it’s a beautiful day and there is something dangerous and sordid about carrying a bag of your soiled undies through a crowded city with all those around you oblivious of the dirty bomb in their midst.

An old American couple has just come in to enquire about the cost benefits of doing the laundry themselves. The Chinese man tells them its half price if you do it yourself but he can do it in an hour. They meander out with the old man who looks like a shrunken Kenny Rogers saying he could spend the hour going to the Fitness First gym across the road. They must have lots of money.

My washing is spinning now so the end is nigh. The anonymous delicates have long since stopped and lie there like a soggy shaggy multicoloured dog in a round window waiting for its owner. Now I have a big call to make. To dry or not to dry? The sign above the row of Speed Queen Driers tells me it costs $2/10 minutes to dry however the average drying time is 30 minutes approximately. I trust the sign as a row of certificates above the Chinese Man tell me that Melbourne City Dry Cleaners and Laundromat have been Highly Recommended in the Australian Achiever Awards every year since 2002, except for 2009. I wonder what happened in 2009.

Near disaster! I decided to throw caution to the wind and invest $4 in 20 minutes of drying but in my exhilaration forgot to take note of the arrows telling me what Speed Queen I was feeding. I’d put my clothes in the bottom drier and as I pressed the start button to my horror the top drier started spinning. I could see the Chinese man grinning out of the corner of my eye. It was probably stupid people like me that made his days of washing and wrinkles worthwhile. The little screen counted down like a James Bond bomb timer and there was nothing I could do to stop it, except for opening the door. I only lost about 30 seconds. I think the Chinese man was impressed with my quick recovery. We haven’t made eye contact but I think he’s thinking about offering me a job. Maybe if I fold my clothes well he will offer me a job. I do need a job.

My washing drying.

The anonymous delicates have been claimed. A young lady is pulling it all out now and I’ve just realised I’m sitting right next to her machine. It’s all a bit uncomfortable actually. I’m trying not to look like a pervert but she probably thinks I’m one of those guys who lurk beside unattended ladies washing to catch a glimpse of damp panties. She’s obviously an experienced Laundromat user as she has put her coins in the right slot. She’s only gone for 10 drying minutes but her load is less substantial than mine. She’s left now, probably to call the cops.

2 minutes to go. I don’t expect it to be completely dry but it will be lighter to carry home. The Chinese man is talking about the World Cup octopus to another customer. Apparently it has escaped death by correctly predicting every game. He wanted Germany to win and so did I. Time to start folding.