Yes, you’re reading that right.
I am currently blaming them for all my problems. Ok, I am only being semi serious right now. Here’s the situation:
There are some lovely young men and women who feel the need to pleasure their brains with that loveliest of lovelies, the marijuana. Now, I don’t know these people, I don’t know what their life is like, I only know that they felt the need to get high in the laundryroom.
now of course I’d rather not have my clothes smell like the boy’s bathroom in your high school, but that’s not really my big problem. So our maintanence guy–good man that he is–would rather not have people smoking in the laundry room; even if they do live there. And so to prevent this unexceptible behavior, he decided to lock the laundryroom. Yes, he locked the room with the big machines we feed quarters to in order to clean our clothes.
I know!
That obviously didn’t last long. As you can imagine, being called up every time someone needed laundry done would be quite an annoyance. I can only guess the pot smokers found somewhere else to go.

Skip to last Friday.
Lyrikh is practically without clothes and has a swim suit that desperately needs washing. Of course I probably should learn not to leave my clothes until I have no more to wear, but that is a life lesson that would be better learned when laundry stops being so dang expensive. Anyhow, I finally get up the energy to walk out and do my laundry and found clothes not dirty to wear outside of my house.  So after I go through the trouble of making sure our would be escape artist is safely away from the door, I head out into the night. . .
Locked.
Stupid potheads!

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