Skivvie Thief
Well, how awesome is it that after God-knows-how-long I finally type a post and then that’s it. I sicken myself. I also noticed that I really need to update that thing called flickr.
What’s even more sickening is that I’ve been ill with a cold for over a week, stressed to the max with work, averaging about 2 hours of sleep a night since Saturday of last week and to top this sundae with a cherry? I’m PMSing. That, folks, is never a good combination.
And just to make things even more exciting and turn things even more sickening, I’m back with another infamous AJ story!
The Tale of the Skivvie Thief. Because that’s just what the world needs more of.
Back over a year ago, while I was still living in the apartment downtown (What? Oh, yeah, I moved away from that apartment a while back. I know. I know! Update more often.), I got to experience my first laundry thief.
I was one of those people who went down (all 18 floors) to the laundry room, left their laundry in the washer/dryer and went back up to the apartment. Trusting in the “goodness” of man-kind, I never bothered worrying that my laundry would be rifled through. I would like to also add that I was never one of those pricks who would leave their clothes in the washer and/or dryer half an hour after the cycle was done just because I felt like I was King or Queen of the g’damn world.
Once my clothes were finished with the wash, I dumped everything in the dryer and left to go upstairs till the clothes were done.
After my alarm went off to let me know that time was up, I went downstairs to pick up my clothes.
As soon as I looked at the dryer, I noticed that a sock was stuck in the door. I figured that I was in a rush and didn’t realize that a sock tried to escape. No worries, just retrieve the sock, dump the rest of the laundry in the basket and head back upstairs.
A few days later, I was rifling through the laundry basket looking for a particular pair of skivvies that I had washed earlier. (Yeah, you read right. Looking for skivvies in the laundry basket. A few days later. Because I hate folding laundry. OKAY?)
And that’s when I noticed I had no skivvies in that basket. None. Nada. Zilch. The eight or so pairs I had washed were gone. A SKIVVIE-MOTHEREFFIN-THIEF. They left my socks. My shirts. My pants. They just wanted my clean undies that had been in the wash and thrown in the dryer.
I was so distraught that I had to go out that night and buy eight more pairs of skivvies just to make up for the loss. To be honest, it was probably for the best. Because, really, who needs about 25 pairs of skimpy skivvies? Apparently, I do.
What I don’t get is why would the Thief wait until they were in the dryer? I mean, if you’re really into that “thing”, wouldn’t you want them pre-wash?
Needless to say, I spent the next while keeping a close eye on my clothes in the laundry room after that ordeal.
What’s even more sickening is that I’ve been ill with a cold for over a week, stressed to the max with work, averaging about 2 hours of sleep a night since Saturday of last week and to top this sundae with a cherry? I’m PMSing. That, folks, is never a good combination.
And just to make things even more exciting and turn things even more sickening, I’m back with another infamous AJ story!
The Tale of the Skivvie Thief. Because that’s just what the world needs more of.
Back over a year ago, while I was still living in the apartment downtown (What? Oh, yeah, I moved away from that apartment a while back. I know. I know! Update more often.), I got to experience my first laundry thief.
I was one of those people who went down (all 18 floors) to the laundry room, left their laundry in the washer/dryer and went back up to the apartment. Trusting in the “goodness” of man-kind, I never bothered worrying that my laundry would be rifled through. I would like to also add that I was never one of those pricks who would leave their clothes in the washer and/or dryer half an hour after the cycle was done just because I felt like I was King or Queen of the g’damn world.
Once my clothes were finished with the wash, I dumped everything in the dryer and left to go upstairs till the clothes were done.
After my alarm went off to let me know that time was up, I went downstairs to pick up my clothes.
As soon as I looked at the dryer, I noticed that a sock was stuck in the door. I figured that I was in a rush and didn’t realize that a sock tried to escape. No worries, just retrieve the sock, dump the rest of the laundry in the basket and head back upstairs.
A few days later, I was rifling through the laundry basket looking for a particular pair of skivvies that I had washed earlier. (Yeah, you read right. Looking for skivvies in the laundry basket. A few days later. Because I hate folding laundry. OKAY?)
And that’s when I noticed I had no skivvies in that basket. None. Nada. Zilch. The eight or so pairs I had washed were gone. A SKIVVIE-MOTHEREFFIN-THIEF. They left my socks. My shirts. My pants. They just wanted my clean undies that had been in the wash and thrown in the dryer.
I was so distraught that I had to go out that night and buy eight more pairs of skivvies just to make up for the loss. To be honest, it was probably for the best. Because, really, who needs about 25 pairs of skimpy skivvies? Apparently, I do.
What I don’t get is why would the Thief wait until they were in the dryer? I mean, if you’re really into that “thing”, wouldn’t you want them pre-wash?
Needless to say, I spent the next while keeping a close eye on my clothes in the laundry room after that ordeal.
Labels: Story Time
posted by AJ at
9:59 a.m.
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