where's the luck in laundry?

Today was supposed to be the luckiest day of the millennium.

But it was the unluckiest day in my laundry.

So I’m at the sink, picking off the shit that always seems to remain at the bottom of my glasses after they’ve run through the dishwasher, when I hear this horrible BANGBANGBANG in the basement. Not the jaunty BOOMBOOMBOOM the washer makes when it’s unbalanced; this was more sinister.

BANGBANGBANG. Really loud, like there’s an evil troll with a hammer, trying to get out.

I hustle downstairs, open the lid, and see that the machine has stopped spinning during the rinse cycle. That BANGBANGBANG is apparently the sound of the transmission whining that there are too many towels in there.

I fiddle with the knob, try different things, but it won’t spin. It’s done spinning. It’s spent.

Then I heave the soaking, sopping wet towels into the laundry basket to hang outside to dry. The damn thing’s heavy, so the handles break on my laundry basket. But I manage to get it outside, water dripping up and down steps and through the house.

I hang up a towel. The line creaks. I hang up another one at the other end. More creaking. I hang up a third. The line breaks and the towels fall to the ground.

But that’s ok. I have another, stronger one. I hang up all 6 towels. The line breaks. The towels fall to the ground.

Now the towels are dirty and I have to wash them again. I think if I were a neighbor and I watched all this, it’d be funny.