In Vegas, I had a washer and dryer in my apartment. Having lived in various urban areas, I found it to be quite a luxury. It was not, however, as luxurious as laundry service.
I was at the Skamania Lodge in Washington state, and I was appalled that it took two days to get my pants cleaned. Most any hotel would return laundry dropped before 8:00AM am before 5:00PM. The Mandarin Oriental Tokyo had closets that could be opened form the hallway. All one had to do was flick a switch, and a few minutes later, anything in the closet would be gone, returned clean as soon as possible. The Trump Sonesta in Miami even had an overnight service, where anything, even dry cleaning, sent before 5:00PM would be returned at 7:30AM.
So after two years of only utilizing the luxury of a washer and dryer in my apartment as a last resort, my pants are drying on the ledge on my porch. In an industrial size stock pot full of hot water, a large wooden spoon, and ‘Toss’ detergent that, as the bottle proudly proclaims, also “does wonders on floors,” I washed my clothes.
I felt like Mrs. Bucket in Willy Wonka.
I even sang a forlorn song looking off into the distance.
“Cheer up Charlie….”