One of the most eventful events from January was my first attempt at doing laundry in Barcelona. We have a laundry room here, but of course, everything is in Spanish. First I had to exchange 3 euro for tokens with the mean Spanish security guard, and then of course, in putting my token in the washer, I had picked the only one that was out of order. Bueno. So I have to go get the lady again, who doesn't semll as though she's heard of a washing machine, and she motions for me to use another one. She continues to ask where my clothes, I point, and then she insists I load the washing machine in front of her. I hardly thought my underwear was of such great interest. Anyway, I load the machine, we get it to work, and then she makes me come back to the security office with her, asks for my room number, and then chastises me, telling me that I shouldn't come back until I have someone that knows Spanish with me. She had written me up for not knowing how to do Spanish laundry.
Second time doing laundry - of course I decide not to bring a Spanish speaking person with me, use the same broken machine, and get my clothes stuck, dirty and slightly wet for about 4 hours. Figures.
Needless to say, I'll need to acquire more Febreze.
No comments:
Post a Comment