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.