Tuesday April 24, 2007

Deep in the (scary, dungeon-like) bowels of my basement, there is a turf war.  I'm engaged in battle with my constantly-sawing-things neighbor, the constant cougher upstairs, the smelly hipster down the hall, and the racial stereotype couple (hot asian girl and her nebbishy boyfriend) from the first floor.  We battle for control of the single working dryer in the laundry room.

Out of all the half-rusted out washers in the basement, two work.  Ok, two is a fine number of washers.  But, out of the four dryers, only two have power.  Two was a good arrangement, until one of this duo stopped functioning as a dryer, and more as a box that spins your clothes around without any heat to dry them.  Sure, your clothes may come out dry- after six cycles.  I'm not willing to wait three hours for a dryer, personally.  This past weekend, the little line of laundry baskets set up in front of the lonely, functioning dryer stretched TEN BASKETS LONG by Sunday morning.  My baskets were numbers seven through ten.  Though I can think of many desirable attributes for my next apartment, having a washer and dryer in-unit are probably way, way out of my price range.  I'm thinking more of a wishlist with things like:  must have heat through the entire winter, must have both hot water AND water pressure, must not be infested by bats.

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