33 Minutes

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  • Goes to laundromat.
  • Puts clothes in front loading washer.
  • Puts in laundry detergent.
  • Puts in coins.
  • Notes that the wash will take 33 minutes.
  • Walks out to car.
  • Waits 33 minutes.
  • Walks back into laundromat.
  • Checks on laundry.
  • Never hit START.

BLAST YOU! PUNY MAN BRAIN!

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From the comments:

Duffy Gillman: “Clothes, you just sit right there and think about the washing you’re going to get!”

Originally published on: Nov 8, 2012 @ 13:56

Embrace life experiences

There’s this hole in the wall burrito place I go to for lunch whenever I do laundry because it’s right next door.

Not only do they never provide enough napkins with my meal, the napkins they provide are the cheapest kind you can buy. The kind that disintegrate upon contact with a single drop of wetness.

They are more of a formality, a symbol for napkins than anything else.

And there is no napkin dispenser.

So every time I eat here, I end up covered in burrito juice and salsa, feeling like a filthy animal.

A well fed, burrito-ful, filthy animal.

It’s awesome.

Life is good.

Pick your battles.

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SSSSSS!

ssssss-zero-dean

12:53 PM

I’m no expert, but I think the guy leaning against the wall outside of this laundromat and hissing at people might be a demon.

Or a highly evolved lizard snake person.

I wonder if he will be friends with me?

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there-is-no-zero-only-zuul-zero-dean

2:07 PM

THERE IS NO ZERO, ONLY ZUUL.

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2:40 PM

zuul-cover-zero-dean

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i-am-zuul-zero-dean

5:49 PM

“I am ZUUL.”

Another failed pickup line at the gym today.

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Laundry day

laundry-day-zero-dean

That awkward moment when, due to your shirts to shorts ratio, laundry day is suddenly determined by how long you can go without spilling anything on the pair of shorts you’re wearing…

And the answer is laundry day is today.

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Ballistic trauma

ballistic-trauma-zero-dean

That awkward moment — when folding your laundry at the laundromat — you discover that one of your shirts (that you happen to be particularly fond of) has inexplicably suffered what appear to be multiple gunshot wounds at some point in the wash & dry process.

And you now wonder if wearing the shirt — which is, in otherwise perfect condition — will increase the likelihood that others perceive you to be an adventurous badass…

or simply a homeless guy with good taste in shirts.

I suppose I could be both. O_o

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Laundromat Jedi

laundromat-jedi-zero-dean

Zero Dean, doing more laundry at the laundromat by 8:30 am than most people do by 9.

I know it’s true because no one is here.

Unless they all got their laundry done before I walked in! O_o (place opens at 6:30am)

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From the comments:

James: so possibly everyone else got more laundry done by 7 than you did by 8:30?

Zero: Those people are laundromat Jedis.

thanks-for-cooperating-zero-dean

Some people have trouble with “Changer #2”, but I didn’t.

I read the note and thanked it for cooperating.

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From the comments:

Vik: I think its rather presumptuous of Changer #2 that it thanks you for your cooperation before you give it.

Zero: Thanking me? I thought I was being told that in order for cooperation, I should thank it.

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Stake out

stake-out-zero-dean

If my assumptions are correct, there is a growing vampire problem in San Marcos.

My proof?

Someone put this in the trash can outside the laundromat.

This is clearly a wooden stake.

And it is clearly a sign that someone is stashing stakes in discreet places around the area.

You know.
Just in case.

Vampires!

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From the comments:

Andrew: if it were a real problem, either a) it would have remained with the prior owner or b) the pointy end would be covered with remnants of a prior use.

Zero: It’s always good to have a weapons cache (was my thinking).

I mean, you can’t just go indiscriminately carrying wooden stakes around! O_O

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The King of San Marcos

San Marcos, CA.

Sitting in my car.
Waiting for my laundry to finish.

It’s 90+°F out.
Hot.

Man walks into Taco shop directly next to the laundromat.
Walks out with an old-school bottle of ice-cold Coca-Cola imported from Mexico.

Angels are singing as this happens.

He gets in his car next to mine.
Opens the coke.

Sweat drips down the bottle like it does in the commercials.

He brings it to his lips.
Drinks.

You can tell how refreshing it is by how loudly the angels are singing.

And also, because it looks refreshing.

And then, “Aaah.”

He puts the coke in the cup holder on his dash, turns on his radio, and then unwraps his burrito.

“We will, we will, rock you!” starts emanating from his speakers.

He eats his burrito.
He drinks his coke

And it is a spectacle to behold.

And all I can think is, “Damn. Coke should hire this guy to drive around and do this all day. Every day.”

Because I’ve never seen a commercial brought to life so authentically as this.

And I’ve never desired an ice cold, refreshing Coca-Cola like I’ve desired one today.

And I don’t even drink soda.

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Squirrel!

You know you’re in travel-mode when, while you’re waiting for your laundry to dry, you look up the nearest cafe on your phone. And then, without hesitation, simply drive there.

This is followed by an awkward moment when you’re sitting in a cafe and you suddenly realize that although you put your laundry in a dryer at a laundromat 6 hours ago, you never actually took your laundry out of the dryer.

O_O

Instead, you somehow found yourself working at a cafe.

So you drive the 10 minutes back to the laundromat and can see through the windows your laundry is not in the dryer.

O_O

You’re greeted at the door by an English speaking attendant…

“Can I help you, sir?”
“Yeah. I left my laundry in a dryer.”
“Oh. We have it.”
“You have it?”
“Yes, I came in and noticed it and put it in a bag for you.”

She points to the bag.

“You folded it, too?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Wow. What can I give you for that?”
“Whatever you want, sir.”

I had a $5, so I gave her a $5.

And a smile. A big smile.

She thanked me and smiled back.

Faith in humanity restored.
Faith in brain, not so much.

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*Rowr!*

rowr-zero-dean

You might be in Texas when the laundromat attendant speaks absolutely no English.

I had to tell her I didn’t understand her. In English.

I could’ve said it in French though (grew up in Maine).

I’m pretty sure her response was “Oh. You don’t understand me.”

But she might’ve called me a sexy beast.

Yeah.

She definitely called me a sexy beast.

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