Cleanliness is Next To . . . Poverty?

Whoever said "cleanliness is next to godliness" was definitely inspired.

Especially when it comes to laundry. There are some things I can skimp on, but laundry is definitely not one of them.

With that in mind, today I decided it was high time I washed my clothes. Unfortunately, the owners of my B&B were not wild about me using their bathtub as a washing machine, so this time I actually had to traipse two and a half miles into town to find a laundromat.

I've used laundromats in the U.S. before, but I was totally unprepared for the British version.

At first glance, it looked a lot like a U.S. laundromat-- dirty, lots of rows of old washing machines and dryers with coin slots, and a lot of young people coming in to use them.

What didn't look the same were the price tags.

Looking at the washing machines was bad enough: 2.6 pounds for a batch. In American dollars, that's about $4. Ouch.

But, I figured that Britain is more expensive than America, and this was just another injustice I'd have to put up with. So, I popped my laundry in and started washing.

It wasn't until after I had already begun washing that I got the real heart-stopper.

Once my wash was oscillating, I decided to check the dryers and see what the damage would be. I figured it would be about as painful as the washers.

To my great horror, my eyes fell upon this:

That's right-- 20 pence for every 3 minutes. of dry time At first I thought that I must have read the sign wrong, and it really should be 30 minutes or 13 minutes, or something.

Alas, no. The worker there assured me that it was, in fact, 20 pence for 3 minutes.

To clarify, twenty pence equals about thirty-one U.S. cents.

In other words, this laundromat was charging $9.15 for a half-hour of drying time. Who in their right mind pays nine dollars just to dry their laundry???

Not me.

My Wilson genes screaming out against the injustice of it, I began to run through my options.

1. I could bite my tongue and just pay for the dumb laundry. But, I'd probably have to live on watery ramen noodles for the next week to make up for it. Not to mention I didn't even have enough change to dry my two batches.

2. I could combine whites and colors into one batch and cut down some of the expense. I used to do that all the time on my mission. And my mission underwear all came back a sickly grey. Maybe not.

3. I could skip the dryers altogether and bring my wet laundry home. Of course, I'd have to figure out some place to hang it up. Some place like this?

In the end I gave in to my inner cheapskate and toted my soggy laundry through town and on the bus back to my B&B. Thankfully, my B&B owners were nice enough to let me use their clothesline to hang up my laundry. Everything was looking good.

Except the weather.

When I left the laundromat, it was cloudy, but dry. Halfway through my bus ride, rain started pouring down. By the time I got off at my stop, the rain had also stopped. But, by the time I got my laundry hung up on the line . . . it was raining again.

And people think Utah weather is mercurial.

Eventually I had to give up and bring everything inside, but there were enough heaters that it dried pretty quickly.

I guess I learned my lesson: Don't count on English laundromats. Or English clotheslines. Or English weather. Or you'll regret it.

Besides, I should be counting my lucky stars. At least I didn't have to wash my clothes with this: