kalah allen
How I loathe the idea of communally washing clothes with my neighbors. It seems that no matter where you go, this is a bad idea. In Africa, this might entail scrubbing things in a little pond, where parasites and fecal matter lurk in the muddy water, while in America it involves a horrible little place called the laundry room. Here, you might encounter a different kind of parasite.

One day, I came into the laundry room to find two old men caressing my undergarments. One of them, noticing my arrival, hissed to his friend, "Someone's here!" and threw my clothes back into the dryer. I didn't think it could get much worse than that, but it does. What's worse is the asshole who feels like he has the right to rummage through your personal property or remove your stuff from the dryer because five fucking minutes have gone by since your clothes have been dried. Where you strange, abnormally inconsiderate breed of laundry room dwellers come from I don't know, but STOP IT! Don't. Fucking. Touch. My. Stuff. Get it? Next time, I'm watching my clothes like a hawk, and if I see you in the laundry room again, you'd better do the same.—Anonymous