Washing FAIL

Ok. Just instigated my first laundry here in my new building. Feels very eerie. Well, first it felt annoying; hence I (we; everyone in this building) have to pay for it. No one mentioned that – not even when I persistently asked many, many dumb and inane questions about the laundry procedures. “You don’t have to make a reservation? No, not at all? Funny. In Sweden, laundry hours are the number one reason for arsons, murders and arguments at large.”

But they cleverly avoided all those remarks about paying procedures when running through the washing procedures. Basterds.

So there I went. The place was clustered with people of course so I quickly acted as if I knew exactly what I was doing. I always feel the impulse of doing this. Instead of asking a friendly question (and hitting on a hot chic, who knows; possibilities are endless down there) I rather cruise along. Pretend that only retards do this. That the rest of us are better than morons asking questions.

And by doing this we pay a very simple but dear price: getting our clothes back shrunken. A lot. You see, we don’t have a regular drying lines/room/whatever. Only regular dryers. We all know what dryers love to do to our most precious clothing’s. Yes. Fuck them up big time. I did put my delicates in the dryer, pressing the delicates key/mode. Yet something tells me US dryers have a different opinion than I to whatever delicate means. All due to my overly judgmental/skepticism regarding American's taste in fashion: oversized jerseys here, ill-fitted trousers there, completely no fitting clothing whatsoever everywhere – they are in relentless pursuit of not looking good (succeeding quite well too). We can expect a full need in replacing my fav’s in the coming week. Good thing Christmas coming up. Mom, first time in fifteen years - wish list coming up.

Hew was a retard.