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August 31, 2000 +

Two loads of laundry, done by me in Manhattan, attentively sorted and folded: $4.25.

Two loads of laundry, done by a drop-off service in London, washed and dried on high so the colors start to fade, sloppily folded with not even the socks paired off: £25 ($42).

Several coworkers here have offered to do my laundry themselves for £25. I just might take one of them up on the offer.


August 29, 2000 +

Now, I'm not a small guy, nor am I one to take risks with my clothes. I do my laundry myself, despite my living four flights up a walk-up apartment building, and I use fabric softener and Clorox 2 and carry wet shirts home to hang dry to preserve their colors.

Obviously, spending 15 days in London means I have to do some wash while I'm here. But I'm in a business-y neighborhood, so there's no laundromat (launderette, that is) where I can wash me skivvies.

So I've resigned myself to the fact that an unknown Brit will be cleaning my clothes. Not entirely bad, really. Until I took a look at the cost.

London laundry services charge by the item. By the item! My hotel, for example, quotes a price of two pounds sixy pence for _each_ piece of underwear I get washed. At that rate, cleaning all my clothes would easily cost me $100.

I found a drycleaner near the hotel that charges 10 pounds per load of laundry, so I guess I'll be spending $35 or so instead. Bargain, huh. But what I want to know is, do the pay-per-piece people charge the skinny folks less?


Edinburgh, by the way, is pronounced "Ed-in-burrah."


August 24, 2000 +

I had so much to say. Somehow I wound up saying nothing.

I usually have to remind myself that too little is often better than too much. I have a knack for the latter and an uncanny way of using the former, but I never do.


What do you think my above post was about?
  1. Work and coworkers
  2. Friends
  3. Dating and women
  4. Travel
  5. General observation
My guess: you said C. My hint: it's not C.


August 17, 2000 +

Thus advises the sticker on the side of the medicine packet:
"You might not want to eat for the next six days" is a little more like it.


August 14, 2000 +

Weekend away + beautiful weather + family + golf + New England clam chowder in New England + driving to work + lemon poppy muffin = happy boy.


August 3, 2000 +

People ask me why I keep a journal online.

People also ask me why I'm superstitious -- "Believe your fortune cookie fortunes? You?"

My fortune from last night conveniently answers both questions.


August 2, 2000 +

Realization of the morning: Sometimes, what I want to share, I shouldn't share.


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Copyright © 2000 David Wertheimer. All rights reserved.