Life in the Big Shmoke

I couldn’t let the day go by without telling this quick story. I was in the Halls laundry this morning. There was a boy (not from my house), who was 17 or 18, trying to figure out how the washing machines worked. I was about to approach him and offer to help, but he gave me the evil eye. I guessed he was too proud to ask a stranger for help.

He was, however, reading a handwritten note that I imagine his mother wrote for him, with instructions on how the machines were to be used.

He paced a bit, read his mother’s instructions a bit, but other than putting his clothes in the machine, he didn’t actually do anything.

He then rang his friend, to ask for his advice. His friend, also 17 or 18, came over, carrying one pair of underpants (whose I don’t know) and added this to the machine.

The friend was a bit more proactive. He put money in the machine, decided on the “colours” setting and grabbed the bottle of fabric softener. He read the bottle and asked the original guy if he thought they were in a hard- or soft-water area.

Before this was decided the machine started gurgling. They had started the wash without adding either washing powder or softener. Looking around embarrassedly, they filled up the drawer, apparently not bothered about water hardness any more, and they bolted.

It made my day.

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One Response to Life in the Big Shmoke

  1. Anonymous says:

    This blog made my day.

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