Over at my monthly column in the Westside Independent today I’m writing about my washer/dryer envy. I love doing my own laundry. It’s one of those things that I truly don’t want anyone to do for me. I know how I like to do it, I have my favorite detergent, I have things I like to hang, or dry on low or dry on high. I like to pretreat and separate the clothes into all sort of loads. If I could I would hire someone twice a week to clean my apartment from top to bottom, but I really don’t like anyone else doing my laundry.
However, what I do hate is my building laundry room and the fact that I am not allowed to have a washer and dryer in my apartment. My apartment that I OWN. This is the both the downside of living in a Pre-War building and being at the mercy of a co-op board. It doesn’t matter that I have the stats to prove that the new high-efficiency washing machines use less water than the permitted dishwasher. Nope. Washing machines are the big taboo appliance, the bogeyman of cooperative living that makes everyone think of big sudsy flooding and bursting pipes. So, I’ll continue to gawk and stare with lust in my heart for the Whirlpools and LGs of the world the way middle-aged men ogle Ferraris.
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