My apartment building is great. Similar to Melrose place, it's a LA community full of life and scandal. I've come to realize in the past few weeks, however, that there is one big deterrent from living in a communal space: sharing the laundry facility. Sure, it's problematic when everything is in use, but what I find to be most annoying is the guy that lives on the first floor who likes to move everyone else's clothes around. He's the guy that times everything, and if you aren't there to get your clothes when the buzzer goes off, he is. Before you know it, your wet underwear are thrown all over the laundry room so that he can be the next one to claim his stake on a washer. I find this to be one of the most unappealing habits of a neighbor. And I have decided to give him a name, The Laundry Bandit. The Laundry Bandit and I have had 2 run-ins this past week, and to sum it up, we don't like each other. Every time that I see him, I hear the old Western showdown music in my head and draw my fabric softener to get ready for the impending confrontation.
To all of the laundry bandits in the world, RELAX. And please stop touching my underwear.
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