Bless Your Heart Sir

It is no secret that we live in an apartment provided by Mrs. Trumpet’s employer that they rent to us at a ‘slightly’ reduced rental rate. Living here is great, sure we would love some more square footage but having a doorman really kicks ass. We can order our ass off on Amazon,, Hello Fresh, Marley Spoon, and have our booze delivered and signed for from Astor Wine and Spirits and don’t have to worry about being here when they are delivered. The only thing that we have to be here for is deliveries from the Grocery houses (Peapod and Fresh Direct) for the reason that they don’t want to mess with refrigerating everyone’s stuff. The guys are great downstairs and even the Monkey heads have their favorites as “Treat” Pete give Maddy and Maya dog treats after they get done with their walks.

The building has a nice weight room and gym, nursery/kids playroom, resident lounge that we can rent for parties and even an outside space in our courtyard. What  bites is that they frown on cigar smoking so I have to carry my ass over to Central Park or the Cigar Inn for a smoke. We don’t have in apartment washers and dryers but there is a common laundry room on the 5th floor. We chose to do our own laundry for a couple of simple reasons; 1. To carry all that crap downstairs and then pick it up next day is kind of a pain. 2. Do I really want someone touching my skid marked BVD’s? (I got to see if you are still reading) So we opt for the laundry room. This past Sunday morning I was downstairs folding clothes and in walks one of the residents. It goes like this;

The man was walking back and forth with his laundry basket looking for some open machines. The washers are on the bottom and the dryers are on the top and they have 4 industrial machines for heavy stuff. I can see that he is perplexed so I mention to him that the towels in the industrial dryer are about to come out if he needs to use a dryer.

Me – “Sir that machine right there *points to industrial dryer* is about to be done if you need to use it.”
Dude – “Thank you, is that a dryer?”
Me – “Um yes have you already washed your clothes?”
Dude – “I think so, I put it in *points to a dryer* but my clothes don’t really seem clean”
Me – “Sir, you put your clothes in a dryer, you are going to need to put them in a washer *points to washer* to get them clean.”
Dude – “Thank you sir, my wife is out of the country with my kids and I have run out of underwear.”
Me – “Bless your heart sir.” *promptly leaves the laundry room*

I guess that is why they call it medical practice you know?

Have a good day and I bet you a dollar that at least one of my 6 readers will ask their doctor if they know how to do laundry.



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