Today I had a little laundry adventure.

My hall laundry room has a very annoying door with a magnetic lock that is supposed to be released when you slot your student card into the reader.

Trouble is, the reader never works.

It’s always a cruel deception when you run out in slippers and no coat in the middle of a cold cold night, expecting to immediately enter the laundry room so close by, dump your laundry and run out again back to your room without having to suffer too much of the cold.

Because half the time you end up outside the door swearing like a drunk, violently jamming your card into the slot again and again hoping to see green light, but only to be greeted by a devillish red light. Which, mind you, takes longer than the green light to flash. So imagine how it is – it only takes that one extra second of waiting for the light to flash to feel your heart sink- and the profanities rise to your mouth.

So today it happened to me.

But, thankfully, I have a very kindhearted and manly and tall (ok no racist jokes this time Earl hehe) flatmate who came to my rescue by climbing through an open window and opened the door for me from the inside.

Then I put a sock at the foot of the door so it wouldn’t close and lock itself. There was no one else using the laundry room at that point and I figured no one would bother removing the sock.

That’s not the end.


When I returned to move my laundry into the dryer, I found that someone had come and done laundry while I was gone, and very considerately removed the sock! The door was locked! My student card didn’t work! And so I was stuck outside again!!

In the cold!

In flip-flops!

In a light jacket!

At 2.45 in the morning!

So the string of profanities gushed out again like water from a high-pressure running tap, while the churning of that anonymous person’s washing machine taunted me from inside the laundry room. “Ha-ha, look what I can do that you can’t.”

So what did Pris and I do?

There was a nice wooden bench nearby, sitting in a nice homey patch of grass, probably there for people who take relaxing strolls around the pretty landscape of Tocil (my hall) in the early mornings to take a breather and admire the view and listen to the birds chirp. Oh and the ducks quack.

Well, sorry. Because it is now under the laundry room window, and facing the wall too. Unfortunately, I am way too short and way too physically unfit to climb through the window Earl effortlessly slinked through.

So unless an early morning walker thinks sitting on a bench while facing a brick wall with his knees tucked into his chest is a good way of adding a bit of extra excitement to his morning walk, I’m afraid that bench is not going to be of much use now. Until people move it back.

I sure hope it’s not going to be a doddery old man who’ll have to do it. I’d feel extremely guilty.

So to whoever who thought the bench was a nice touch to the park-ish feel of Tocil, Thank you. Because without you I would still have a three-week-old bag of laundry sitting in a corner of my room.