Laundry and oil changes

Saturday R and I tried to be efficient and productive. We even had a plan (oooooooh! a plan!). We both drove to the base, I was going to take the clothes to the laundry mat on base and R was going to have the oil changed in his car. If I wasn't done with the laundry by the time his car was finished, he'd switch out the vehicles and get the oil changed in my van. Since we were planning to do laundry on base, I grabbed everything I could think of that might need to be washed. We, umm, ended up with a lot of stuff to wash.


T wanted to stay with his dad, so I took S with me and off we went. There are, of course, no parking places beside the laundry mat, which isn't a big deal if you don't have three basketfulls of laundry and a toddler to deal with. I grabbed the first two baskets, coaxing S to follow me, and into the laundry mat we went. I had money with me, but a limited amount of quarters because there's a change machine in the laundry room. I was not surprised to see that it was out of order - it was a Saturday morning and it was busy in there. It's $2.00 for one of the large machines, so I only had enough to start the first load. Since the food court was really close, I decided to run over there and change my cash. If that machine wasn't working, I could either ask for quarters at one of the food places or head to the club to see if that change machine was working. I had already put my second load of clothes in the washer, but was a quarter short, so I put my third load in front of the third washer and off we dashed to the food court. Luckily, that machine worked, so we were back within 10 minutes with quarters and the third basket of clothes.


Imagine my surprise when I walked up to the machines to start my second and third loads to find that a woman, her husband and their kids had not only moved my laundry from in front of the third machine, but had taken my clothes out of the second machine (brave considering they were dirty clothes that didn't belong to them) and put their stuff in. OH, the indignity and sheer chutzpah of that move.

Now, here's where my dilemma begins. I have S with me, and I really do try and set a good example for my kids. Yet, even I who rarely uses a laundry mat knows that putting your clothes on, in, or in front of a machine is the equivalent of 'dibs'. The fact that several other machines had that going on just reinforces my conviction that I was not imagining it or making it up. Now, one of the things I want to teach my kids is to stand up for themselves (and others if need be), but to do it the right way. I wouldn't say I'm afraid of conflict, but I don't like it and rarely see the point. So I hesitate for just a minute before saying anything and what I say is, "Wow - you moved my clothes?" She looks up, a little surprised. I guess she expected to be done before I got back. Her choice of a comeback was, "Oh. I didn't know you were going to use this machine." I could have bought that had my clothes just been in front of the machine, but since my clothes were IN the machine, not so much. I, ever happy to point out the obvious, say, "What part of my clothes already being IN the machine didn't clue you in?" She and her husband both start to laugh. I say laugh, I really mean snicker. And I only like a snicker if it's peanut, caramel, nougat and chocolicious.

So, I get angry and I got angry quick. They never really answered, just started feeding quarters into the machine. I take my clothes, go to the other side of that row of machines and start looking for another empty one. A picture of maturity and adult-ness, I stomp off and start to mutter. I really am going to have to figure out this whole muttering thing. As much as I dislike it in others, I seem to be turning to it a lot in the last year. It scares me a little. It's been a while since I had to fight the urge to slap someone-but I really had to do that with this woman and her husband. As they continued their smirking, I increased the volume of my muttering. To be a laundry mat, it sure got quiet in there. S, ever oblivious to the situation at hand, was concentrating on taking as much laundry out as I was putting in. She's my own comic relief, that one, but it didn't help today. I hear the husband ask the wife if she'll be okay if he and the kids leave her there, and I hear her say she's scared. Since I'm shooting them daggers and other nasty looks, I don't miss that the comment is referring to little old me. On one hand, she's a little right to be scared because I was really ticked off. On the other, even at this point I realize that I need to cut it out and act like a grownup. The five year old in me won (drat it) and I snap - "You should be afraid! If I were you, I wouldn't take my eyes OFF my laundry until it's done." Niiiiiiiice one, Brooke. They looked a little shocked that I said that. I was a little surprised myself, truth be told. And really, reading back over this...what an embarrassing way to behave even if I did mean every word.

32 tension filled moments later, my first load of laundry finishes. About four minutes after that, her loads start to finish. As I pull out my wet laundry and put in my next load (I was only able to find one other machine that was working and empty), a lady whose daughter S has been playing with signals me that she's done with the load that was in the dryer. I take my stuff over to the dryer and she tells me that she'll have another load done in about ten minutes. Cool. My second load will be done right about that time. I thank her and shoot machine stealer a triumphant glance. She's now got a huge pile of wet clothes and no available dryers. Awwww. Poor baby. I also notice that people that have clothes in the dryer are hovering near their dryers and looking at her warily. I have a feeling that I'm not the first person she's done that to.

Ten minutes later and I made the mistake of going to the bathroom. I needed to change S's diaper and why not go myself, right? So we can all guess what happens, right? The lady who tole me she'd have another dryer free soon pulls our her dry clothes and guess who dumps her stuff in. When I come out, I see this and FINALLY I act like an adult. I just shake my head and pull my wet clothes out of the washer. I refuse to look at machine stealer again because if she smirks at me, I'm going to roll my laundry cart right into her shin. As I'm busy not looking at her, this guy at the far end of the dryers signals me. I walk over there and he says that he's going to have three machines free in a few minutes. So I go get my wet clothes, put another load in the washer, and walk over to the dryers he's using. She sees me doing this and is right behind me with her wet clothes, but Mr. Nice Guy deliberately takes his time unloading his laundry one machine at a time so I can grab all three. And, even though I only had one load, I spread it between the three machines. So there, you heinous, nasty witch.

The rest of laundry time passes uneventfully. I think the validation of the other laundry mat patrons helped to diffuse my hostility. I still think I need to take a nice, hard look at the way I reacted to that situation, but if I or my life were perfect (the thought of that makes me laugh until I have tears in my eyes) what would I have to write about?