Thursday, January 05, 2017

Back to the laundromat

Broken, maybe
London, ON
December 2016
For more letter-themed Thematic, head here
A little over seven years after our first trip to this unassuming laundromat near the corner of Oxford and Adelaide in the middle of London, we found ourselves here again. The reason, just like the last time, was the same: Our regular washing machine had broken, and we needed to make a dent in the growing pile of laundry before the new one was scheduled to be delivered.

We'll save my complaints around why a state-of-the-art washing machine lasts only seven years before chewing itself up from the inside out. But suffice to say we won't be buying Samsung anytime again.

My annoyance with today's throwaway culture notwithstanding, I relished the opportunity to get back here with my wife. First, I like hanging around with her. And while it may not be a fancy restaurant or tropical beach, a date is a date is a date. You take your moments wherever you can get them, even in a place festooned with hastily handwritten and taped signs, ancient machines and cracked and yellowed floor tiles that probably looked out of date when Nixon was learning to lie.

Second, the things that make this place look downtrodden are exactly why it's such a fascinating space to explore. We had such a good time the last time that it seemed almost poetic to be writing a second, albeit abbreviated, chapter seven years on.

More to come from the laundromat.


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