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Laundry List
October 30, 2009
A few days ago I noticed that I had about a week's worth of clean underwear left. Time to think about doing laundry. I checked Weather Underground: Wednesday was forget it (monsoon rains), Thursday was chancy, Friday was a big smiley sun face. Friday would be laundry day.
Friday -- that's today -- dawned overcast. The clocks "fall back" this weekend, but for the time being it's barely half light at seven a.m. It was still overcast when Trav and I got back from our morning walk. I booted up Morgana and checked Wunderground again: the sun was flanked by clouds but it was still smiling. Off to the laundromat.
The machines have reverted to their off-season rates. Earlier in the month it was still $5.50 a wash. Now it's $4. Good sign. Instead of cramming my clothes into two washers, I sprang for three. While strolling around with Travvy, I spotted a Bank of America debit/check card on the ground near Nectar's, the peculiar new name of the nightclub that used to be Outerland and before that the Hot Tin Roof. The surname was familiar though the first name wasn't. One of the people I know with this surname is a serious asshole and I hoped this person wasn't related. I picked up the card and figured I'd check the phone book when I got home.
The sky was still overcast as I started hanging out the more-or-less clean laundry. Have faith, I thought. The overcast was thinning, wasn't it? I thought it was. For the record, there was only one T-shirt in this laundry, and it had long sleeves. There were no shorts. Truth to tell, the critical factor this time wasn't an impending shortage of underwear; I'd run out of long pants. It was either pull the winter clothing box out of the closet or do the laundry. I did the laundry.
After it was all hung out, I checked the phone book. The name on the debit card did not appear. I called the 800 number given on the back of the card. The automated answerer wanted me to punch in my access code. I suspect I do have an access code for Bank of America, because my Working Assets Visa card is beholden to them, but this wasn't about my account. I guessed that the 800 number was for people who wanted to report a card stolen, not people who wanted to report a card found. This was getting to be too much hassle. I tossed the card into the trash. Ten minutes later I pulled it out.
Jeans, shirts, and towels go on the clothesline. Underwear, bras, and socks go on the drying rack on the deck. As I hung out the underwear, I was disgusted by how dingy and/or worn out some of it was. Can't we do better than this? Jockey for Her is my favorite brand. I went online, to Jockey.com. O Fortuna! My favorite style was on sale, and in colors I never saw at Brickman's. I went nuts. When the screen told me that if I spent another $12 I'd get free shipping, I threw another 3-pack into the shopping cart. Now I'll have to throw out the dingiest and most worn-out underwear because otherwise the new stuff won't fit in the drawer. No way, however, will I throw out clean underwear, no matter how tatty it is. I'll wear it one last time and then throw it out.
After ordering from Jockey.com, I hit the Bank of America website. It wanted to help me report a stolen or lost card, or track my multitudinous investments, or do any number of other things, but it didn't offer an obvious way to report a found card. Finally I sent them an e-mail: I found a debit card, what do I do with it?
When I went to the barn, I left Travvy on the deck with the drying rack. When Travvy wants to get my attention, he often uses socks to do it. Wonder of wonders, when I got home from the barn, all the socks were still on the drying rack. Wonderful puppy! Nearly everything was dry too.
Jockey.com e-mailed me that it had shipped my order via UPS -- to my post office box. Idiots. The UPS people and the post office people in my town are in cahoots, so my order will probably find me before I run out of underwear. And Bank of America sent me an automated message that they had received my inquiry and would reply within 24 hours, after doing whatever research was necessary. Far out.
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