« Home | excerpts » | to whom it may concern » | cleaning out my closet » | tick tock tick tock » | by popular demand » | you sing a sad song just to turn it around » | i never should have gotten out of bed » | chasing after windmills » | and on and on » | political apathy »

laundry night

Right, so faiz calls while I'm chatting with vicky in my room (we were supposed to be studying, but whatever). "Let's do laundry!", he says. (subtext: I have nothing left to wear and I need company in the laundry room!). I say, "hmm...alright" (subtext: I'm worried about the huge-ass beer stain I got on karen's skirt last night, and maybe the machine can take it out). so we arrange to meet at about 11pm, do some economics reading while the laundry is done, then go off. sounds like a plan, right?

Wrong.

After lugging our huge laundry bags to the laundry room (really a laundry dungeon), we are left staring dumbfounded at the electronic keypad outside the laundry room. We don't know the combination to get in. We punch in some random numbers. Nothing works. So I'm left chattering in the cold while faiz runs off to ask the porters what the combi is.

So finally we actually get into the laundry room. We spend some time separating whites and coloureds - very efficient college kids we are! and then we're all ready to start with the spinning. Just that we can't find the place in the machine to stick in the laundry card. We spend about 10 minutes looking for it. Finally faiz realises that there's a little card reader thing at one end that connects to all the machines. Irritatingly old and shitty card reader thing rejects our cards numerous times - and makes faiz make second and third trips to the porters' lodge - and finally, the machines are ready to wash.

We spend the 30 minutes the machine takes by "reading" introduction to microeconomics, but actually spend about 15 minutes reading, and 15 bitching about how hard it is.

Ian comes in - he's transferring his clothes to the dryer. We follow his lead and transfer too. Then begins an interminable wait for the dryers to be done. At this point - and I kid you not - we've been waiting for the dryers for about 45 minutes. After giggling - in a "that's so not going to happen so we can joke about it" way - about how we're going to have to leave for our lectures directly from the laundry room, Ian's load is finally done. He kindly irons to keep us company while we're still waiting - and the shitty iron with a chain attached to it inspires another wave of "the laundry room sucks because the people who paid for it don't actually use it i.e the stupid bursar" bitching. That takes about 20 minutes.

Ian's done and he leaves, promising to bring us breakfast tomorrow morning at the laundry room. After another 20 minutes, faiz and I decide something must be wrong, and he switches off the main power. (people, it was 1.30am and we all had to be up before 8 the next day. We were desperate).

We open the dryer door to be confronted by a steaming hot pile of damp clothes. They're really hot, so hot that when faiz attempts to extricate a shirt, he lets out an extremely unmanly scream of pain, and flings the offending shirt on the floor. This - and fatigue, kids - sets me off giggling and I can't stop. "This is the worst experience of our lives!", I giggle. "I'm the one with the burnt off hand, can you stop giggling and help!", he counters.

FInally we get the hot clothes out, and put them in other dryers, leaving them to dry overnight.

And that, is why I am still awake now, 6 hours before our first lectures at oxford ever. It doesn't get better than this, folks.


On a related note, I hope to post pictures soon! But unfortunately many of them feature rather debaucherous glaze-eyed drunk people, so some self-censorship might take place. Stay tuned! And hope everyone in singapore is doing great.

hey punk..
blog more often leh. dunno wot's happening to u now. why so busy??

Post a Comment