C-Drive Classics - Volume II

Our series of cop-out re-runs continues, due to "the 56k situation", which is my equivalent of a bank holiday. Unless the world has changed far beyond my expectations, all the mainstream TV stations will be dusting off the re-runs of Mary Poppins and Back to the Future and suchlike so that the producers can get to Blackpool before the rush. In that spirit, I give you:

washing.txt

This was written at the last minute to flesh out our sixth-form yearbook, produced almost entirely by me and widely hailed as "a bit rubbish, really", with the exception of this segment which was very popular with parents and Guardian readers, for some reason.


Untill now, washing clothes was easy. When they had been on the floor for a certain amount of time, they would vanish and later re-appear, clean and folded, somewhere else. But for some reason, when you live alone this no longer happens. So here is a simple guide to laundry.

1) Pick your moment

Ideal times to do laundy are the day before someone visits, when you're meant to be revising, or when you can't open your door.

2) What to wash?

Find a clear horizontal surface. Your bed is likely to be the only one available. Here you will make three piles, the "It's Okay", the "It'll be okay with some fabreeze and an ironing" and the "Urgh" pile.

To decide whether something goes in the urgh pile (if it's not obvious), hold it to your face and inhale deeply. If you feel the urge to vomit, or start giggling, you know what to do.

I'm assuming you don't own anything of any value whatsoever. If you do, you are obviously beyond the level of this guide and should employ a Phillipino houseboy to do your washing for you.

3) Finding the House of Laundry

By now you should be able to see your floor again, which can be a harrowing experience. You should get out of the room as fast as possible, pausing only to collect a thousand coins of various size and stuff the urgh pile into a sack or similar container. Bin liners are good if you can resist the temptation to throw the sack over a wall and buy new clothes. Don't do this unless you have a job.

Now you have to find a washing machine. Unless domesticated, they live in colonies. Such places normally have a water-stained lino floor and depressing atmosphere. If you know one well, you should know what kind of coin you need to feed the machine to make it co-operative.

**A note on economy:** It might seem logical to stuff as much as possible into each load. However, this is most likely to cause distressing noises, and might even make the washing machine spontaneosly combust or throw up water all over the floor. Resign yourself to poverty and wash only a few things at a time.

4) Wagner's Rinse Cycle

Once eveything is safely inside the bribed machine, you must now try to decipher the controls. Playing a lot of Tomb Raider or watching Indiana Jones or the Crystal Maze is good preparation for this.

If and when the machine makes a gurgling noise you may assume you have succeded, and sit opposite the machine staring contemplatively into the window. Don't do this if you feel seasick easily.

The window of a washing machine is designed to be an effective Yantra, inducing a deep trance-like state, as is the noise of "chuggeda-chuggeda-chuggeda-hummmmmm". The hours fly by. If you go away and do something else you wil lreturn to find the machine empty, with no sign of ever having been used. There's no explanation for this.

5) The Aftermath...

... can be quite poetic really, with small screams as you realise eveything you own is now a size smaller and light blue.

Hang the afflicted and soapy garments on something back in your house/room to dry, as you probably can't afford to use the machenised tumble dryer, and are scared of it anyway. Hanging things on a radiator will cause your house to burn down. Hanging wet clothes on an electric three-bar fire will kill you, and would you deserve it.

In the moist atmosphere of the strangely-tidy room, you will vow to make some kind of system to deal with laundry. You swear that instead of leaving it to the last minute and going at the job half-arsedly, you will get organised and be efficient.

False hope's a bitch.


Song in my head: "Wonderboy" by Tenacious D