Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Dry Cleaning: The Saga

Word to the wise: never buy clothes that require dry cleaning.

1/8, 6:59pm: arrived in the nick of time at Romano Cleaners, the only "organic cleaners" in town and dropped off all of my winter trousers and a sheath dress.

1/15, 1pm-ish: return to Romano (on a Monday) to retrieve my clothes and learn that the store is closed, in observance of MLK, Jr. Day. (sigh)

1/21, 12:45pm: return to Romano. Closed. Again.

1/22, 7:15am: standing at bus stop grabbing at my crotch to pull down the long johns that are riding up my ass. Long johns, people. It's come to this.

2/1, 6:15 pm: sit in my cubicle cursing and mumbling that I'll never be able to leave work in time to retrieve my clothes.

2/3, all day: am shivering cold because wearing summer khakis in 15 degree weather. Fuck long johns.

2/14, 7:30pm: am pissed because unable to wear my pretty sheath dress that's still at the fucking cleaners.

2/15, 8:15pm: still at work; working two jobs now--editorial ass and faux senior editor. Thinking about quitting job just to get my clothes back.

2/20, 5:45am: call in to work and leave voicemail message for boss #2. Message sounds something like this: "Hi K. Just wanted to say that I'm not coming in to work today...(pause)...or ever again. See ya, sucka!"

2/20, Noon: arrive at Romano Cleaners. They're open and I am victorious! Lady looks up my ticket and tells me that my clothes exceeded their hold policy and it's been donated to charity.

2/20, 2pm: have been rifling through the racks at Salvation Army for 2 hours looking for a slew of expensive super fine merino wool trousers. Hate, hate, hate dry cleaning.


moonrat said...

Ooo, you can see the future!!! What happens in mine, Senior Ass?

Bluenana said...

(waves hand maniacally over crystal ball)

Moonrat, I see something very dramatic in an office with food...oh, it's oatmeal...and it's flying across a conference room table and hitting a man in the face...and I can hear you saying something angrily, but triumphantly...(pause)...ahh, yes, you say "Sayonara, fucker, I'm out."