Putting Clothes Away
I’ve often been criticized for my “failure” to put my clothes away in a drawer when I wash them. I’ve decided, since I’ve come down here, that I was going to make a run at having all my clean clothes put away and join the rest of society.
For the last couple weeks, I’ve been doing it without fail. One thing I’ve not been good at, however, is remembering which drawer is housing my socks vs. which drawer hosts my skivs, etc. This has haunted me just a bit as I recently picked up my laundry and was quite convinced that I was missing 2 pairs of bluejean (Phil Mennona’s favorite Spanish word, unless it’s rosbif). I took a few trips to the laundromat and was fully convinced that they lost both pairs of jeans (and in total, 2 out of the 3 I have here with me). The owners there were looking even though they were quite sure that they had returned everything. So, they asked me to go back and check, and I did, just to appease them, and couldn’t find the damn things. No chance I got them back — I was getting screwed by the laundromat. I went back and told them that they just weren’t there, and while I was quite nice to them, I was pretty aggravated, particularly because replacement jeans are simply not available for me down here, even with the incredible shrinking waistline phenomenon that seems to be the result of Latin American Fat Camp. I left, and they were going to check with their customers to see if they accidentally gave them to them.
Now, as a result of this newfound “tidiness,” I am stuck having to go back and tell them that I did indeed find them just 20 minutes ago, and that they were put away in a drawer that I didn’t think I used. I am not too pleased about going back and telling them, though the fact that I have my jeans back certainly outweighs the crow I am going to be eating. Either way, I blame this incident on being tidy. Boo.
