Laundromats: The Black Hole of Quarters

The washer and dryer at my house are on hiatus.  Presumably, they are being worked on for some reason or other, but I have yet to get the actual story. More importantly, I was not privy to such information before the actual process had begun—just in time to realize the mounds of laundry that had piled up.

Realistically, and economically, I only needed to do one load of laundry. So I loaded up the things I wear most, the detergent and my Wonder Woman bag* and ventured to find that one laundry place I actually recalled existing off of PCH—. 

It seems the mandatory way to exist in the Laundromat is as if all your clothes were dirty. In my case, this was true. The dress code always seems to go a little like this:

1. Sweats and/or tank top
2. Messy, uncombed hair—in a pony tail, if you're lucky
3. Glasses (if you own them)

No one looks good doing laundry. It's the rule. You're doing laundry so you can look better.

I haven't needed to go to a Laundromat for almost three years. I love that they are always the same. 

Staples of the Laundromat: 

1. Indistinguishably old candy machines from which you can get a handful of questionalably edible skittles or hot tamales.  This lovely candy machine was chained to the wall.  (I'm sure a whole slew of hooligans have been eyeing the sun-faded candy for weeks now, making elaborate plans to escape with the whole lot.) 
2. Old-school arcade games. This particular establishment sports Twin Eagle II** (obviously superior to Twin Eagle) and Bubble Shooter/Puzzle (whichever you prefer). Everyone seems to call this something different. 
3. That paranoid feeling you get about leaving your belongings anywhere but right next to you.
4. The obvious signage—No Smoking, Pets or Loitering.  Clearly, no fun is to be had at Laundromats. But, seriously, who loiters here?
5. That secretly grossed out feeling you get about using a washer that hundreds of people have used before you.  
6. The deceiving dryer that only costs 25 cents ... per 8 minutes. Realistically, it takes three quarters to completely dry your clothes.

For a couple of days I had been wondering why it was called a Laundromat.  While sitting bored waiting for my laundry to launder, I decided to look it up on my computer's dictionary.  Laundromat is a combination between launder and automatic.  I figured the launder part, but I had absolutely no idea that the other half was part of "automatic."  Personally, I think Laundromatic sounds way cooler. "See ya, squares, I'm going to the Laundromatic!" See? Cooler.

* Filled with my computer and a backup pad of paper since my computer's juice was low. My Wonder Woman bag is awesome. But more to the point, it is bigger than my purse. Also, I feel sort of like an empowered '50s housewife during this outing, so I would bring the ultimate woman to make this laundry trip extreme.

** An epically strategic game of sheer jet-flying skill, slick navigation, raw danger, and annihilating enemy combatants with your unlimited ammo.