How to Launder Money

Just Kidding!!

First of all, there's no way I would write a post about a criminal activity, I have a reputation to uphold. Secondly, I have no idea how to launder money so my how-to guide would be as effective as sitting in your underwear with carrots up your nose to cure cancer.

This post is actually about laundering clothes.

Wait!! Don't go!! I promise it's (kinda) funny!!

Washing your soiled linens is one of those daunting chores that if you're really lucky (or really spoiled) you won't experience the full level of suckage until you go away to college.

When I was in elementary school, I knew it wasn't magic per se, but it did always seem like a small miracle that my drawers were regularly stocked with clothes that didn't smell like the underside of a wet dog. I really had no idea where my clothes went after I put them in the hamper, all I knew was that my favorite denim shorts and Rainbow Brite tee-shirt were always available when I needed them.

As I got a bit older (arguably more responsible) I still never experienced the complete laundry process. I may have been asked to move the beach towels (an unshrinkable, un-fuck-up-able item) from the washer to the dryer when the machine buzzed but after that I was relieved of my duties and free to spend the next 5 hours practicing my synchronized swimming routine with my sister. When we emerged from the pool soaking wet with wrinkly digits- clean, dry towels awaited us.

I enjoyed being pleasantly aloof to the laundry process until I was in middle school.

It was around the age of 12 that my mom asked me (with audible hesitation) to "sort" my dirty clothes. Up until this point in my life the only thing I had sorted effectively were my Pogs from my slammers and my 'cool' scrunchies from the crappy ones that I would hand down to my sister.

Mom never gave me a proper lesson in the art of sorting, until she observed me stack my clothes into 3 piles: shirts, pants, and everything else. When she stopped laughing she informed me I was both wrong and ridiculous. She was obviously right.

As years passed I learned many valuable lessons about laundry.

1) Downy is NOT detergent. Sadly, while your clothes will be incredibly soft, they will also still have evidence of the previous weekends' jungle juice graffiti party.

2) The hot cycle (intended to bleach whites) will make colors bleed. Every.Single.Time.

3) 24-hour laundry mats are terrifying places to be at night. One would probably be more comfortable wearing a mini skirt and 6 inch plastic stilettos in a poorly lit alley.

4) Care labels exist for a reason. Blatantly disregarding "Dry Clean Only" in favor of the "delicate" cycle will be an expensive lesson to learn on a silk blouse.

5) Stashing Tide-To-Go pens in your purse is more important than chap stick. This is especially true for someone foolish enough to wear a white shirt to a baseball game. Where they serve hot dogs. With ketchup. And mustard. Need I say more?

Despite what I've learned from doing my own laundry (a concept that was once as foreign as a retirement fund) I've decided that it's worth every single penny to have someone else do my dirty work. Literally.

The below advertisement had me at "solution." They obviously recognized that for some people (me) doing laundry is a legitimate problem. They went on to target their audience (me) perfectly... "For Busy People." (I'm not sure if they're hinting that not-so-busy people should be doing their own laundry, but I really don't care. I AM a busy person! I'm too busy to even worry myself with the subliminal message they may or may not be trying to send.)

And although the last line, "just like you would do at home" seems like more of a threat than a promise given my at-home experiences, for 75 cents a pound I was willing to give it a go. Hell, you can't even get cookies at an Italian bakery that cheap!

The results? See for yourself:

Needless to say, not only was I not disappointed, I have not purchased laundry detergent (or Downy) since January and have become what one might call "a regular" at Empire Cleaners. Now if only I could convince (pay) someone to put the clothes away for me.