Kicking the bucket

Of the 12 available settings only one worked. In its hay day it would have had the godly status of being a superior piece of Washing Machinery. Unfortunately it suffered the plight of being the communal flat share equipment. Thousands, perhaps millions of cycles later the trusty Hoover had been reduced to an all or nothing setting. There was no option for a spin , no delicates-only cycle it was Synthetics Tumble or nothing. 55 minutes for a load, no more, no less.

During my stay here I've seen the washing machine flirt with death on countless occasions. Each time a technician has come by and given it a new lease of life. Unfortunately, this time around nothing could be done - it had seen its last wash. So now I wait with bated breath for the replacement. Bated probably because I had over a weeks worth of dirty laundry and a weekend trip ahead.

So out of novelty I headed down to the local Coin Operated Laundromat. It was everything I expected. A distinct early 90s feel, with washing machines ranging from small loads to extra large loads. It was filled with the characters you expected to find in a laundromat, not the ones you hoped to see (no attractive females). The old yuppie with the bright coloured shirt and thick rimmed glasses. The ethnic in a wife beater and his suitcase of bed sheets. The weird smelly guy from the subway. The backpacker with the Lonely Planet and me, the guy with a fistful of change and not a clue in the world.

Currently reading Malcolm Gladwell's Blink.