The Campus Slot… Laundry Machine
$6,000 Welcome Bonus
A satirical account of a very true experience.
I open washer number 8, usually, this is my lucky machine. The one I don’t encounter issues with, but this happened to be an unlucky day. I find my bedding and sheets to be sopping wet and spend the next ten minutes ringing out my plush blanket. I wonder if this is what it was like to do laundry in prehistoric times. If I was a woman in the 1800s, this would be the most exciting part of my day. I count my blessings that I was born in 2001 and use the unanticipated chore to excuse my procrastination. Once the blanket and sheets seem to carry about 5 pounds of water as opposed to the 15 pounds they previously held– I carry the laundry to dryer number 10.
I’m unable to recall my previous experiences with this very machine so I must test my luck. I walk over and swipe my pirate card. It goes through. I walk back over to the dryer. My fat fingers cross themselves as I select the antiquated “Permanent Press” cycle. The machine begins to toss my heavy garments. Hopefully, I’m in the clear. I leave the laundry room.
Fifty-five minutes later– I return to find that thirteen minutes into the cycle the dryer decided to quit working. With approximately twenty-eight (paid) minutes remaining, the machine would NOT resume. I grumble.
“There goes another $1.25.”
It’s time to try the unoccupied machines. I enter three different dryer numbers into the payment apparatus. None of them work. Incorrectly, the pirate card swiper cites that the “machines are in use.” There is only one dryer left to try. I superstitiously cross my fingers and look to the ceiling. I pray to the laundry gods that dryer number 7 will work.
“Please have mercy upon my soul. All I want is to not sleep on damp sheets tonight!”
I walk over to the dryers and toss my sopping wet laundry into the number 7. As I do so, I drop a pillowcase on the nasty cement floor. My face contorts into a grimace while picking it up. I place the case inside the dryer, alongside its mismatched cousins.
Not wanting to piss off the laundry gods, I carefully approach the slot machine on the wall. I punch 7 and swipe my pirate card. The sight of my dwindling Pirate Buck balance mocks me as it decreases another $1.25. I approach the prospective dryer and select a cycle.
“Please, laundry god, I do beg of you, please bless me with dry sheets—”
This time I press: “Whites and Colors”
“Select a cycle” flashes upon the screen. I angrily press the cycle button again. There is no change in the outdated display. I press each other cycle, none of them take. The dryer still shows the “Select a cycle” prompt.
I curse beneath my breath.
“Jean f@$king… ” I pause, careful not to finish my slur. I must not use the laundry Lord’s name in vain.
I carry my wet bedding across the parking lot. As I open my door– I again curse. Not the laundry gods this time. I curse my aching wrists. They have rung out every obscenely absorbent garment lying limply in my arms. The dark living room is striped with light from the blinds. I throw the load on my couch; and proceed to open up every cabinet, door, and drawer in my dorm. I grab the heaviest of blankets and leap, affixing it atop the ajar bedroom door. My sheets are strewn atop the cabinets, and my pillowcases lie strategically over open kitchen drawers. I turn the AC Fan on high. I take a seat upon my damp coach to admire my sloppy creation. As my forearms throb, I wonder if this clothesline-esque tactic will dry my bedding in the next ten hours.
Did you know that our current washing machines are 22 years old?
In my experience and the experiences of my peers, these machines are broken more often than not. Especially in the laundry room in the Herman Brown Hall— which is shared between all sophomore dorms.
Sign this petition for new washers and dryers on campus!
Our current washing machines manufacturing info (can be used to check the date)
