I Saw the Sign

Ah, a Monday I did not have to spend in the office. I should have been able to smell the miracle on the air. Seriously, how many days can you think of in a given year where the kids have to be in school and you do not have to spend your day playing in that grown-up gopher farm commonly referred to as your office? This past Monday was one such day. Despite a miscommunication on lunch plans, it turned out to be a miraculous and glorious day. And all because on this most sacred of days, I did laundry.

My laundry had been piling up. I tried to get as much laundry done before the move, however due to my supreme powers of slack I managed to have about half a hampers worth of clothes when I moved into Meat Plant, and since I have just barely over a weeks worth of underthings and socks, my drawers drawer was starting to look a mite thin. To put it not so gently had I not done laundry on Monday I would be sitting here typing this missive to you sans britches and matching socks. Clearly the one thing I had to do was laundry.

Now Meat Plant has a stacked washer/dryer unit, however apparently the drier leaves grease stains on the clothes. Since I do not like hanging my laundry out to dry, this meant I had to go on a holy quest for a Laundromat that met my exacting specifications. As I am a simple man, these are a fairly simple set of specs. Of primary importance is the dryer to washer ratio. There are few Laundromat experiences worse than having your freshly clean laundry sitting around waiting its turn in the dryer. The second thing I look for is a washateria that is somewhat off the beaten path. In my experience the staff at these tend to be a bit friendlier once you have established that you are a regular and since they are in out of the way places, they are not very busy. A final ingredient that makes the experience nicer is if the washateria is staffed by attractive young ladies.

Once upon a time when I lived in a neighborhood not too far from the one I now inhabit, I used to frequent the Graustark Laundry for all my laundromatical needs. As I was preparing my supplies I remembered the Graustark Laundry and had a vague idea of where it was, however since Mr. TunaCan and I had always referred to it as the Seinfeld Laundry (due to the mural depicting the main cast of Seinfeld heading to do their laundry) I had no way of looking it up to verify where it was. All I remembered is that it was between 59 and Richmond somewhere west of Montrose, but still close to Montrose.

As luck would have it I managed to stumble across Mirama Street, which was familiar to me somehow, and since the only reason I had ever been in that neighborhood was to go to the laundry I knew the hunt was afoot. I followed Miramar and then, there at the corner of Graustark and Miramar, the grinning visage of Jerry welcomed me back. A little worse for wear, but he and the crew were still there.

I wandered in. Did my laundry. Read a couple of comics (though not enough to get caught up as previously promised). There were a couple of other customers and the attendant, while not an attractive young woman, was friendly enough. The place was clean and well stocked with semi-recent magazines. All in all it was a very pleasant experience, but this is not the miracle of which I speak. Before I headed out in search of the Laundromat, I had to swing by Kroger’s to pick up some laundry detergent. It was here, in the Kroger’s express lane, where I had a life-altering revelation. We’re talking Saul on the road to Damascus kind of revelation. Take a look at my receipt:


It is true that God works in mysterious ways and Jesus, well my friends, he is all about the saving!