The laundry room in my building has long been a bell weather of where this great nation is heading.
A lot can be gleaned by scanning the homemade ads pinned to the cork board. In years past, it tended to be diplomats selling their furniture before leaving the country. Or perhaps posters for off-Broadway productions.
But recently, while I was trapped down there with my dirty unmentionables, I saw:
1. A handwritten ad for a “T-Square 42 inch Width Aluminum Ruler-Heavy Duty Quality–$15”
Now, I’m trying to figure this one out. Was that ruler taking up too much space in this person’s apartment, or did they really need the 15 bucks that bad? To go through all that effort, fielding phone calls from prospective buyers and such, it just seems a bit tedious. And without much payoff.
2. An irate message, typed, in all caps which snarled at all who read it:
LAST NIGHT SOMEONE STOLE THE FOLLOWING ITEMS FROM MY DRYER:
-1 SPORTS BRA
-1 BATH MAT
PLEASE RETURN THESE ITEMS ASAP. I WILL BE REVIEWING THE SECURITY CAMERA FOOTAGE WITH MANAGEMENT TONIGHT!
I find it amazing that anyone would actually demand those dreary items back, and spend time going through security footage, playing Jessica Fletcher, just to apprehend the culprit. But then again, I’ve never had a sports bra stolen. I do not know her pain.
Furthermore, last night I snapped this photo I like to call, “Laundry Room Offerings”:
Now, people in my building have often left behind interesting stuff like board games (I scored a deluxe Scrabble game once) or mugs or vases. But look at how far we’ve sunk. Last night the pickin’s were mighty slim: one filthy bedroom slipper, an empty bottle of gin, some black rags and a tarot card book.
Either these are tools for some pagan ritual or these are simply bleak economic days in the laundry room and beyond.