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The Bang Bang Theories

Dirty Girl

Sitting here in the recliner with my pajama pants pulled up just under my tits, I look like an old man.    That’s not necessarily a good look for me.


How clean are my clothes with my new washer & dryer, you ask? Well. They are so (not) clean. Because my new washer? Was good for a load and a half of clothes before it took a shit and died right there on the basement floor. 

The first load had me mesmerized. It has an Aquajet feature, Reader, which is a big whoosh of waterfall that cascades in cycles over the clothes. I was ready to put on my bikini and stand underneath it and pretend I was in Hawaii. I sat and watched my washer wash clothes for a good twenty minutes. My Mister came looking for me, I was gone so long. He joined me then, elbows pressed on the clear washer top, watching the drum rotate like synchronized swimmers, and then the cascades of water rushing over, then more synchronized spinning – it was mesmerizing. And I watched all that and sighed and whispered into the basement, “This looks like a whole lot of things that could go wrong right here.” 

And then the Universe said, “AH HA, Motherfucker! I shall show you how quickly we can start with that!” 

Only I didn’t know it, because I went upstairs and waited for the cycle to finish and it did and I rotated the cascaded-water-cleaned clothes into the new dryer where they were fluffed and steamed and twirled and heated while putting a second load of dirties in the washer. 

It was obviously too much to ask. 

 The following evening when I went to rotate? Discovered I was locked out of my washer. The top? Just wouldn’t open. Nope. I pressed my nose against the glass top and rubbed my eyes in disbelief. Was that – no, it can’t be – a tub filled with water?? 

Yes, yes it was. The drum filled with water, and my clothes trapped within.  We pulled out the manuel. Checked to see if we’d blown a fuse. Scratched our head in disbelief and coded it. 

Called the service dude. Came out yesterday, pronounced it. The store offered to give me $200 off. The service guy said don’t take it, get a new machine, this doesn’t look good for the state of things to come. The store offered me another hundred bucks off and the promise to fix it. I couldn’t take the deal. I want a new machine. 

We did get the clothes out. My new new washer should be delivered on Saturday.  And this is why  I can never have anything nice, Reader. Because the Universe is out to fuck me every chance it gets. I’m an easy target. Obviously. With a load of dirty/moldy/smelly clothes. 

Don’t stand too close to me. You may get the aftershocks of the bad lucks being sent my way. 

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