After spending countless hours at various laundromats in my time I can say one thing is clear, I'll never be completely comfortable washing my clothes where strangers have.
Who's to know what nastiness has washed off others' clothes and lingers for mine to touch, swirl, spin and cling to.
Case in point, the random yellowish stains that ostentatiously showed up on my clothes tonight. Pissed? Yes. Kinda grossed out? You betcha. At least I know it isn't contagious since they were dried at HIGH heat for 40 min. *shudder*
Then there's always the creepy attendant. Randomly walking past you, seeing what you've got going on. In my case, knitting. I've got two (well four) needles, you've got two eyes. Coincidence? I think not. And next time you check out my ass as I'm pulling clothes out of the washer/dryer/whatever, said needles will find their way to you... *insert evil laugh and clasped hands* Take that Creepy-Attendant-Dude.
Oh, shall we discuss the unknown discolorations on the folding tables?
Or perhaps the smell that you just can't quite place?
Or even the... wait. Hold on. I think I'm even too icked out now to go back.
Sigh.
But I have to next week.
Until we meet again Creepy-Laundr-O-Mat-Attendant-Dude.
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