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Because I have no one to tell this story to right now, as most people are either asleep or otherwise engaged in something much more important, I have no choice but to write this in my LiveJournal. That, and someday I will doubt how ridiculous this story is and will want to read it over again just to make sure it actually happened.
It started this afternoon, 5-ish, as I was walking back from my 8 hour day at school. I had two bucks in my pocket. I went in to Burger King to get change in quarters because as it happened, I was wearing my only clean pants at that moment, and I was going to do a load of laundry tonight. I give the nice lady at Burger King my two dollar bills, she gives me 8 quarters in exchange. I should mention now that each load of laundry a wash and a dry, is $1.25 a piece. I ultimately needed $2.50, but I knew I had exactly the extra change at home. I stick the 8 quarters in my pocket.
I get home. I put the 8 quarters on the coffee table. I make a grocery list and next thing I know, 3 of them are missing. This now presents a problem because I only have enough change to wash, not dry my clothes. I forget about it and go do my groceries. Later on at night, one of the quarters mysteriously appears on the coffee table. I put two dimes and a nickel on the table and tell whatever little ghost is taking my change that if they can turn that into a quarter too, I would be greatly obliged. In the meantime, I went through every wallet, purse, coin-purse I could find and found that I had EXACTLY $2.50 in quarters and was very happily going to do my laundry.
I go down to the laundry room, with my load of dirty clothes. Oddly, all the washers are occupied except for this one. It's empty. I see nothing wrong with it. So I put my clothes in, I put the soap in. I put $1.25 into the machine to get it started so I can go back to my apartment and finish my homework.
The machine gets stuck.
Try as I might, that little sleeve that takes your quarters in and comes back out empty would not budge. Wouldn't go in, wouldn't come out, wouldn't start the washer. At this point, I'm pissed, because I only have another $1.25 which would have gone to drying my laundry, and I can't just wash the clothes and leave it wet. I went back to my apartment, picked up a screwdriver, some scissors, my keys - anything to pry the thing to it's proper place so the washer would just start washing like it's supposed to - and my cell phone, because we're supposed to have 24-hour maintenance.
Nothing works. The machine remains stuck. I call the leasing office to see if there is a number for the maintenance people. I get the answering machine, where I can leave a message and have them call me back sometime tomorrow (which is no good, because my clothes is in the washer right now, already soaped up), or I can dial 0 and talk to the answering service. I dial 0. I get the answering service. I ask for a number for maintenance, and the guy takes down ALL my information and eventually patches my call back through to the answering machine in the leasing office, which again is no good.
So now I'm stuck.
I called my dad and bitched and ranted and raved for a little bit, because I was so pissed at what a simple and yet incredibly irritating situation I was in. At this point, it's 11:45pm and I will mention that I don't live in the nicest part of town. This will become pertinent in about 4 seconds. I decide to brave the cold and the dark in my flannel pajama pants (because my jeans were soaped up in the washer), flip flops, and my NYU hoodie, to cross the street and go back over to the Burger King. They were closed.
I went next door to Jimmy John's, where thankfully people were still coming in and out. I walked up to the guy behind the register and told him I needed a huge favor, and asked if he would please break a 5-dollar bill for me. Had it not been for the asshole making the sandwiches to his left, whom I hope suffers from such grave intestinal disorders that he cannot leave the toilet for a week lest he should shit all over himself, I'm sure the guy behind the register would have been quite complacent and I would've been saved further aggravation. But no. The guy looked over at the asshole for permission, and the asshole, without lifting his head from his hoagie, said they didn't have change. I asked, "Are you sure? I have rather extenuating circumstances," because I'm not about to tell this guy how much trouble I've gone through over a fucking $1.25. He says "nope" and I very angrily thank him, when halfway out the place I think to myself, "OK, fuckhead, I'll buy a soda." So I bought a soda for $1.71, which as far as I'm concerned is highway robbery, but this is perfect because in giving him my 5-dollar bill he will have to give me at least 1 quarter in change. I took advantage of the fact that he'd opened the register to get my change and asked him to give me one of those dollars in quarters. He did, saying that was all he could give me, and I said "Fine, that's all I need anyways." He was still an asshole about it.
I left, hightailed it back over to the laundry room across the street at my apartment complex, and now with all my EXACT change again, an hour after I'd intended to start the whole laundry process, I went to move my clothes to a functional washer.
Ladies and gentlemen, no good story is complete without a punchline and I wish I was kidding when I tell you this, but I honestly couldn't have made it up any better if I tried. Don't read ahead because it'll just ruin it.
As I'm now moving my clothes from one washer to the other, a guy comes into the laundry room. You won't believe what I'm about to tell you, because I heard the words come out of his mouth and could not beLIEVE what he was saying to me.
He sees me putting my clothes into the washer, looks over at me and says, "Excuse me, do you have change for a dollar?"
That's it. That's my story. This is the kind of shit that only happens to me. It's so trivial, and so menial, but wait 'til it happens to you one day and then we'll see how you deal with it.
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