“But if all you wanted was money, why didn't you stay in the laundry?" -Jack London, “Martin Eden” (1909)

I like laundromats. At a time when on-line services and remote work has changed our fundamental economic and social interactions, laundromats have largely retained their traditional role. Some have adjusted by entering the pick-up and delivery market, but mostly they remain a fixed place to do the wash when other options are unavailable. Perhaps you rent or are homeless. Maybe you are traveling. Or, maybe you simply don’t trust a remote service to get it right.

Whatever the reason, laundromats attract a fairly consistent crowd. Personally, I enjoy the foot traffic and the transitory nature a place like it can often animate. As they say in real estate about location, when properly situated in an interesting neighborhood or at a busy intersection, one can watch people for hours, or until all quarters are exhausted. Passing by will be bikes, cars, trucks, and pedestrians of every variety and demeanor. Serious people, happy people, angry people, people who are troubled by something, overjoyed by something, and people simply going about the business of the day.

Then there’s the sound of change dropping into a coin slot and the straightforward transaction it represents. No app, no PIN number, no receipt, no tapping or reinserting a card. Real money with clear exchange value. That is, money spent proportionate to the time necessary for essentially unchanged early 20th century technology to do its work. And, like a factory, the layout is designed to maximize use, and all time is governed by a machine. The only reprieve from such regimentation might be the proverbial plastic chair, providing a place to sit and read while waiting on the spin cycle or for that last sock which somehow refuses to dry.

How customers wash and wait is the only variation in this factory. Some bring large amounts of clothes, others only a small bag. This determines wait time. And, while some customers rush in and out to add time or pick up, most just wait. At odds with all this waiting, is the rhythm of the employees or owner who never seem to stop moving. I never fully grasp what they are doing, but they seem to be in constant motion. Some of it is organizing delivery orders and some is scheduling dry cleaning picks up. On today’s visit, I watched a ceiling panel get replaced, a problem dryer get fixed, and the sale of a box of detergent to a customer. Baskets and bags were everywhere. It seemed chaotic, but there was clearly a system at work.

One thing is abundantly clear, and it is another aspect of the laundromat I find curiously comforting. That is, the shared purpose that binds all customers. Everyone is there to do their wash. That’s it. Nobody can outwit the machine or beat the clock. Nothing can obscure this essential task. Ultimately, everyone leaves with their clean laundry and perhaps a little less hurried than when they first arrived.