Spin cycle love, tumble dry only

The winter before we got a new washer and dryer was probably one of the best winters I ever had as a kid. Doing laundry meant trips to the laundromat, and while my mom couldn't have been more miserable at the mere thought of packing me and my sister along for a trip, we couldn't wait to go. The house we were living in at the time was on top of a steep hill, and the only road leading to it was a very ill-formed rocky road. It was hard enough trying to get up the road when the weather was good, but when the weather started taking a turn for the worse, there was no use even trying it. Mom and Dad would park our car at the bottom of the hill and we'd have to hoof the rest of the way up to our house. A very grueling hike, might I add, but complaints were rarely made.

Going to the laundromat became an event for us. Because it was such a hassle, we'd wait until the last possible minute, wearing whatever suitable item of clothing owned until it came time for a wash. Mom would have me and Tiff help bag up all the soiled laundry we had into hillbilly luggage (also known as garbage bags) and we'd move it out into the yard. Getting to our car was the hardest part. The rocky incline was much too harsh to drag the bags of clothing down, and the bags were much too heavy to carry. Instead, we'd go to a shorter hill just off the side of our yard that was more grassy and would cut the size of the area we had to cross in two. The three of us would sit on the large plastic bags and ride them down the slick grass until getting to our landing. Tiffany and I could hardly control our shrieks of laughter as we rode our laundry like sleighs down the wet and frosty grass. From there, it was just a little way to our car so our trip to the laundromat could begin.

The laundromat fascinated me. I thought it was neat that there was a place to go where washers and dryers lined the walls and basically anyone could come for clean linen. I liked the sounds the machines made and the smell of detergent and fabric softener filling the room comforted me. On the wall of the laundromat was a painting of my papaw. Considered a local hero of sorts, he was decked out in his coal mining gear and having him smile down at us while we did our laundry almost seemed as if we hadn't even left home. Tiffany and I would play Pacman or Centipede and eat Bugels from the vending machines, while we thought up fun ways to use the laundry carts for purposes other than which they were intended. Sometimes, we had the place to ourselves, and this allowed us to sing out loud together. Mom would sing "I Get Weak" by Belinda Carlisle or songs by Heart while me and my sister harmonized.

In the back of the laundromat, there was a room that contained the heavy duty washers and dryers. There were only a couple of these, and they were secluded from the main section, so this part often remained deserted and came off as a little creepy to me and Tiffany. We'd dare each other to go back there, inventing scary stories about the room - stories about washers that came to life and ate people.

Going to the laundromat in my adult years has never been as fun as it was when I was a kid. Since I don't own a washer and dryer of my own, and my apartment doesn't include a washing facility, getting clean laundry means having to pay to get it done, or taking it home to my mom and dad's when I visit. I have found most of the laundromats in my town to be pretty ghetto and often unplesant, so I have been doing whatever it takes to avoid them. Although, recently, a place called "Fluff and Fold" opened up just a block from my apartment. Curious as to how this establishment measured up to the rest, I decided to check it out.

Right away, I knew I would like Fluff and Fold. Unlike the other laundromats here, this one felt homey. A couch sets in the lobby complete with a nice easy chair next to it and a coffee table nearby. A big screen TV is used to entertain the people who come in for fresh jeans and sheets. A fridge of Red Bull, ready for purchasing in case of late night laundry shifts, is always fully stocked. The guy who owns the place, Mike, is known around town as "The Pedal Cab Driver" or "Mike the bike." He is often seen toting rowdy drunks on the back of his bicycle, usually asking just for tips as payment. Decorating the walls of his business are pictures of a Moose, cat, dog, ostrich and a bull drawn by his son with colored markers. Tuesdays nights, he hosts wash parties, providing free food and music as long as you BYOL (bring your own laundry).

Sunday night's laundry session with Christin proved to be more entertaining than usual. Besides the two of us, we shared the laundromat with three guys, all friends. These guys could have easily been the inspiration for Revenge of the Nerds and are missing a great opportunity by having not already tried out for Beauty and the Geek. We watched as the guy strongly resembling a taller, thinner "Booger" challenge the friend who spent most of his time playing his Gameboy, to a ninja fight. The fight went well until one karate chop landed too hard and the boys nearly went at it full sissy fight. The fight ended when one of the nerds produced his pocket knife and had Booger shaking in his sneakers. It's all fun and games until a ninja decides to use his swiss army knife.

Later, Booger confessed to us that he was a 24-year-old virgin.

"But I have a girlfriend," he added.

"So what do you guys do?" Christin asked. "Hold hands?"

His laugh was just as you would expect, a loud, shrill snort. "Well, we haven't met in person yet. We're still talking on the Internet."

Then he went back to giggling over the "dirty picture" his fellow nerd friend had sent him to his cell phone. Before we left, the more quiet of the three decided to try to impress us with his downloading knowledge.

"I can find you any movie, TV series or anime you want."

We tucked that in our pockets for a rainy day just in case we needed it.

Thanks to Fluff and Fold, I have rediscovered my love for the laundromat. I can see myself toting my laundry in hillbilly luggage down the street, quite a bit in the future. I'm sure my mom will be thankful that I've found a new place to do laundry. Probably just as thankful as she was the day we got a new washer and dryer, and our trips to the laundromat were just distant garbage-bag-riding memories of the past.

Tashina Savage is also pretty stoked that she can use her debit card instead of coins to do her laundry. You can donate to her laundry fund at sundaysgirl@gmail.com.