October 7, 2003 - 5:24 p.m.

One of the best things about being unemployed -- sorry, "freelancing" -- is that you can do laundry in the middle of a weekday.

Some of you may have your very own washers and dryers, so I'm not sure if you'd understand. (Also, no offense, but I kind of hate you.) But those of us who have to lug our clothes around our respective neighborhoods know that few things are more satisfying than walking into an empty or almost-empty laundromat. And, obviously, the best time to find an empty or uncrowded laundromat is in the middle of a weekday.

Oh, the bliss! We can actually divide things into loads, instead of cramming our whites and colors into the last available machine and hoping for the best. We can get the good dryers. We don't have to talk to other people.

That last one is a biggie. And yet, inexplicably, a rash of TV commercials appeared a while ago in which people "met cute" in laundromats. In one, a girl peered flirtatiously from behind her magazine as a cute boy took off his jeans and tossed them rakishly into the washer. In another, some guys overflowed the washing machines so that the laundrmat filled with soapy water and, in short order, wet, soapy, gyrating babes. I believe Zima may somehow have been involved.

Now, I'm a big fan of pantsless men -- particularly if they're rakish -- and wet, soapy, gyrating babes. But there's a time and a place for everything. If either of the above scenarios took place in my laundromat, I would be freaked out and/or annoyed beyond measure. I'm often freaked out or annoyed beyond measure if someone merely speaks to me in my laundromat.

Sorry, but I'm just not at my best when I'm doing laundry. For one thing, you can pretty much assume that if I'm at the laundromat, I'm wearing uncomfortable underwear. This would be the pair that I got at Target for $2.99 because they were so damn cute, not to mention economical. I may have even bought them to prolong the need to do laundry for one more day.

But the joke was on me, see, because they may be adorable, but those underwear pinch and are unflattering and are constructed of some sort of space-age material that may or may not have been developed by NASA, but is definitely not what garment industry experts would describe as "breatheable." So when I'm wearing those panties, I'm probably not so much in the mood for conversation, if that's OK with you.

The other thing is, well, I'm doing laundry, for god's sake. It's not fun. I look like crap. There are many other things I should be doing, but can't do, because I have to sit and watch the dryer and make sure nobody steals my good panties. Which is why, for the most part, I'm pleased about this unemployment thing, vis a vis its effect on my laundering schedule. I can get in, get out, and nobody gets hurt.

Although recently, I have noticed a disturbing trend. Sometimes -- even at 2 o'clock on a Wednesday -- the good dryers are taken. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. The unemployment rate in this town is somewhere around 7%. It only stands to reason that I might have to wait for a dryer. But still, it's just one more reason to hope for a quick economic turnaround.

I don't know, maybe I need to have a better attitude about the whole process. Maybe some Zima would help.

previous - next