Trips to laundromat prompt new appreciation of old front-loader

Published 2:29 pm Friday, February 5, 2016

I own a $1,000 piece of junk called a front-loader washing machine. It’s supposed to be quiet, energy efficient, water-wise and capable of cleaning 18 towels in one load. No wonder I whipped out my credit card to purchase it five years ago in a fabric-softener-influenced haze.

That was a big mistake.

For starters, there’s no difference whatsoever in our utility bill. I thought the cost savings in water and electricity would help the front-loader pay for itself. Nope.

At least I can wash giant loads of laundry and save time, right? Wrong. Theoretically I could pack 18 towels in my front-loader, but none of them would get clean.

Plus, the front-loader takes 60 minutes to wash one load. My old top-loader with an agitator only needed 28 minutes. Using the front-loader means it takes 10 hours to wash my family’s laundry each week, instead of five.

I also have to be vigilant that my front-loader doesn’t develop a musty smell. I sanitize it with bleach every two weeks and leave the door open when not in use. When my daughter was a toddler, I kept the laundry room locked so she wouldn’t accidently crawl into the open washing machine and suffocate.

But all those irritations seem petty now. The plumbing disaster that befell us on Christmas — our upstairs toilet revolted — means my laundry room is gutted. I walk past my silent front-loader and feel wistful.

If you haven’t visited the laundromat in a few years (or decades) let me fill you in. One load of wash costs $1.75. Forty minutes in the dryer needs $1. To clean my family’s 10 loads of laundry requires $30 a week because some of the machines are guaranteed to eat quarters.

The only good part of laundromat living is that all of our laundry is finished in three hours. But there are so many negatives that it makes me grateful for a luxury I once took for granted. Just loading the baskets in and out of the car requires Herculean strength. If it’s raining, I’m really screwed.

One time I was at the laundromat and a person lit a cigarette outside and began smoking right next to the front door. He wasn’t even a customer! All of the cigarette smoke blew into the laundromat and saturated my freshly folded laundry. There was nothing I could do but feel defeated.

Clean clothes cost money. They require physical labor that is often overlooked.

If you’re the person who folds a basket of laundry after a long day of work you know exactly what I mean. If not, I suggest you thank the angel who does that for you.

As for me, I owe a sincere apology to my front-loader.

I’m sorry for the time I kicked you. You have your faults, but I appreciate you. Can we pretty please still be friends?

Jennifer Bardsley lives in Edmonds. Her book “Genesis Girl” comes out Sept. 27. Find her online on Instagram @the_ya_gal, Twitter @jennbardsley or at teachingmybabytoread.com.

By Jenny Bardsley