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Doing laundry in a residence hall

I was warned about a lot of college rites of passage before the start of my first year. The fire alarm that goes off at 3 a.m. because someone put a fork in the microwave. The freshman 15. The awkward half-smile you give every time you see the girl you sat next to on the first day of class but never speak to again.

While I appreciate the heads up, somebody should’ve cautioned me about the real obstacle in my transition to college: the warzone that is the laundry room. It’s really coincidental that every time I need to wash my clothes, I’m surrounded by people who are experiencing their first day on Earth. 

Entering the battlefield

This is the Hunger Games. No, I am not Katniss Everdeen, but I am a college student just trying to get my clothes into the washing machine. Survival depends entirely on how long I am willing to stand in front of a dryer and guard it with nothing but a hamper and hope in my heart.

If this is your first rodeo, as it was mine a month ago, prepare to spend your entire day waiting for a machine to open up. Bring your pillows and sleeping bag with you, because you will be in the laundry room until you get acclimated to the wet dog smell.

Weaponry

If you ever plan on getting clean clothes, you’re going to need to find a tactic to aid you in doing so. My weapon of choice is to put on a nasty RBF, but some people prefer to hit you with the death stare until you back off of the only open machine they were (definitely) next in line for.

If all else fails, you can wait until the next day to do your laundry. Unfortunately, you’ll probably have no clean clothes to wear in the meantime, but luckily, the “Miami Grandma” sweatshirts are often on sale at Brick&Ivy. For $2o, you could rock one of those, basically announcing that you lost to the laundry machines … and life. 

Etiquette (or lack thereof)

For the people who still don’t know if clothes go in the washer or dryer first, do us all a favor and watch a YouTube tutorial before you come to the laundry room. I’m sorry, Chad, but it’s not my fault you’re an adult and have never done a load of your own laundry before. Back up or I’ll throw a bag of red things in with your whites (if you’re even smart enough to do them). If I told Chad the red stuff was laundry detergent, he’d probably believe me.

And then there’s the ghosts. There is no experience quite like standing in front of an occupied dryer when the timer hits “0:01” and expecting someone to actually come get their clothes. When the cycle finally ends, you look around, waiting. But nobody ever shows up. Where did they go? Did they transfer schools? Did they ascend into the afterlife? Because they surely aren’t here to grab their laundry. Then, you’ll have one choice and one choice only: throw it on the floor.

Maybe it’s a lesson

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If you ever feel stupid, just take a short trip to your dorm’s basement floor and you’ll soon realize that you’re actually doing fine in life compared to people around you. Maybe I will take one for the team and warn incoming students about the freshman 15 … pounds of dirty clothes.

rappcr2@miamioh.edu

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