Dirty laundry

One of the consequences of living in a rundown apartment, among other things, (ridiculously erratic temperatures, creaky noises, ghosts, etc.) is the fact that I get to join fellow Fort Atkinson-ites at the local laundromat.

I know what you're thinking. What a picnic!
You fools...

Fort Atkinson offers two laundromats. Although Quick Cleaners & Laundry is kept up and has an employee there cleaning and straightening all the time, the place sucks. It's farther away from my apartment, at least $0.50 more for each wash or dry, and they close at 9 PM. NO EXCEPTIONS. Last time, they kicked me out before my clothes were dry, forcing me to go to my new hot spot...

So, I started heading to Kelsi's Klothsline.

You might think that place sounds like it's in the FA hood. That's because IT IS. Nestled between the most pot-hole laden intersection in the city and the Mexican Grocery store -- this diamond in the rough offers two televisions (sans remotes) set up too high to change channels, faded inspirational posters, and, most importantly, cheaper laundry. Nevermind ensuring there's no hardened gum crusted to the dryers, or that the most INSANE INDIVIDUALS I'VE EVER SEEN hang out there.

Half the time, I'm the only person in the place. Otherwise, there's usually any number of the following: a mom, at least one younger couple, dude washing work clothes that don't get clean, and one entire family. I'm talking gramma, ma, pa and at least three juniors running around.

A couple months ago, I even had a chance encounter with a real one-armed man. I had been juggling my basket of clothes while unlocking my door as this shadow came walking through the parking lot ... but then he started toward my car. What the wha...? My heart started racing as I fumbled for my keys. He reached for the door handle and said, "Oh, I was just going to help you with your door..."

Got it! I'm fine... thanks. Thanks...whoa...

Oh, and then, there's the crazy lady that isn't really doing laundry. There are a couple of them, and they like to try and strike up conversations about how much the facility sucks. WHAT?! You're not even washing clothes. You're hanging out watching the free TV that you can't change the channel for, staying warm because it's only 25 degrees outside.

When I arrived around 8 PM last night, one woman kept talking to the TV -- loudly. She sat with a backpack and her winter coat and bright pink hat on, talking to the nervous couple, who were trying to keep to themselves. I think she was squatting there.

I showed up with my one overstuffed basket of dirty clothes -- pre-sorted -- loaded my washers, read my book, threw half the clean stuff in a dryer, grabbed the rest to hang up, and took off for home before she had a chance to linger over. Half hour later, I stopped back to pick up the rest and she still sat in the same place, talking to the TV.

I added "on-site laundry" as a necessity for my next apartment.