This place is the reason why Yelp needs a zero star option. One star indicates that there was…read moresomething, some one thing that was functioning.
When I asked the attendant to change my $20 into quarters, she plainly told me to use the coin machine. Which I did, because I'm happy to save her the 45 seconds and .0037 calories. And because I clearly heard her instruction and I'm a rule follower at my core.
She attentively watched as I slid my $10 bill into the change machine and nothing happened. No quarters. No bill return. No Not Working light turning on. It was as if David Copperfield was hidden on the other side of the change machine.
So, she's watching me I turn to her and ask if I can get my money back or $10 in quarters. She shrugs.
She shrugs.
Like the mythical Atlas, with the weight of the world on her shoulders, she shrugs.
I ask again, politely (if I'm being completely honest, it was polite with a dash of expectation; but polite nonetheless).
This time she types her response into her phone and displays it to me.
So, my logical mind says two things.
One, she's had a bad day, shes battling something in her life, she doesn't want to be here. Compassion.
Or, there's a freaking hidden camera around here somewhere.
Not wanting to be a Falling Down trope or a guest on Impractical Jokers, I head either of the only two possible options off at the pass. I ask her to call her manager.
She replies, "No." Curious, I say again, slowly and clearly "ma'am, I'd like to speak to a manager or whoever runs this place about getting my money back."
She reverts to phone-ics and types "I dont work here and no one runs this place."
Boom. She calls my logic with physics-suspending mysticism. In fairness, I probably should have seen this coming.
I review the events of the previous few minutes with her and get nothing in response. No verbal response, no typed response, no blinking. To be honest I don't think she even breathed. She was committed to the whole "I'm not here" willful suspension of reality bit.
After an epic stare off, I blinked at 2 minutes 43 seconds.
She wins.
My money is gone, for now, and I lick my wounded adolescent ego and pack my dirty clothes back into my laundry bag to go find another laundromat. As I continue to move further away she continues to just stare at me. Her movements imperceptible. Much like the Mona Lisa, I felt like I was being actively watched by a two dimensional object.
In an alternate universe where business theft and poor customer service are valued, this would an off-the-charts, double the bill tip kind of review.
But alas, another laundromat brings back to this reality. Which, in fairness, may be one of an infinite inter-dimensional realities, but nonetheless it's the one you and me presently occupy.
Which is to succinctly say, never use this facility if you value your money.