Laundry Card Proves To Be Worthy Foe To Morning Tasks

I spend a lot of time writing about TV and pop culture and food and drinks, but it’s been a while since I bitched about something mundane in my life. Don’t get me wrong — I bitch about mundane things all the time to my friends, but I usually spare you dear readers the nitty gritty of what makes my world turn. However, today I am riled up, I tell you. And I’m riled up by something that I normally love: TECHNOLOGY. Specifically, laundry technology. The offender today is none other than my formerly trusty laundry card, which has not only betrayed me but seemingly absconded with eight precious dollars of my money. Full details of this burgeoning feud after the jump…

Here’s the deal. Being that I live in a wonderful and progressive building, we don’t use ignoble quarters to do our laundry. Instead, we employ fancy and convenient Web AccessCards, which boast “Unmatched Security and Cutting Edge Technology.” Up until today, my card had been a dream – a model of simplicity and ease that had spared me the indignity of conserving and wrangling quarters from all corners of my life. At last, I could do everything electronically. It was like the future had arrived in my palm like some fancy Epcot Center display come to life.

For the past two years, I’ve had a warm, loving relationship with my card, which hailed from WEB® Multifamily Laundry Systems. Recently, however, things have been going a little bonkers. It appears as if my card doesn’t want to play ball anymore. I stick it in the machine, and more often than not, I get an error that says “Card BAD!” Never mind that my washing machine talks like a cave man; this was a serious problem. Sure, the card had no problem being scanned when I wanted to add money to it, but if I tried to stick the thing in the washer or dryer, suddenly, it would close up shop as if it wanted nothing to do with the entire laundry process — a process it was specifically designed to facilitate.

In the end though, I’ve always had the last word. It would take a few minutes, but after repeatedly inserting my card into the machine, I could eventually get the card to work and be on my way.

Not today though.

I’ll just say it: Today, my WEB® Multifamily Laundry Systems card was a bitch. It was like the Omarosa of cards. Try as I may, it refused to be read. I stood there for ten minutes, determined to get this stupid thing to work: pushing it in, pulling it out. At one point, I did get the machine to respond, and my heart skipped a beat with excitement. $9.00 the display read. However, when I selected “Colors,” the machine reverted to its previous message: “Card BAD!”

Another time, the machine accepted the card, but I had gotten so used to the push-pull experience that I instinctually pulled the card out. I wanted to punch the machine. And the card. And my bottle of All: Small and Mighty (and yes, I still think of Clint Black when I use it).

Finally, I knew I’d have to surrender and purchase a new card. This was rather heinous to me as I knew I’d have to spend an unnecessary $5 on a new a card when I had nine perfectly good dollars trapped on the old, bad card. No matter, I’d just go chat to my building’s manager and get a $14 refund.

But lo! After taking a not-so-swift elevator ride down to the lobby (including a detour on the second floor to see if my card would work there — it didn’t), no one was in the manager’s office. Groan. Reluctantly I headed over to the little laundry card machine, which does double duty as both a dispenser of new cards and a fund refiller of old ones. I stuck my old card in. The machine quickly announced that I had a $9 balance, which infuriated me to no end. Why could this machine read my card but not the washer and dryer? No matter. I decided to just forge ahead before I became truly inconsolable.

Well, I unhappily swiped my credit card in the machine, and $5 later, I had a shiny new card. Conveniently, I only needed to use $5 for my laundry experience today. I resolved to leave the past in the past and just move forward with my new WEB® Multifamily Laundry Systems card. Into the elevator I went, and what seemed like twenty-five minutes later, I finally arrived on my floor. I wasn’t pleased with these turn of events, but at least now I could get a swift response from the washing machine.

Sure enough, the card worked like a charm. One problem: that $5 I’d spent to get the card didn’t put any funds on the account. That’s right: I got charged $5 for a measly piece of plastic. Do you have any idea how much plastic I could get at a 99 Cent store for the same price? I could get, like, thirty-times the amount (volume-wise). Heck, I could get things made of METAL. A hammer! A flashlight! A sizable strainer! Apparently the WEB® Multifamily Laundry Systems card is made of the finest plastic in America, and given that it employs microscopic technology (the kind that suddenly flunks out for no good reason), I suppose I can see why I had to pay such a premium.

And so back to the elevator I slunk, now slowly boiling with rage at this entire process. I think people who live in apartment buildings can empathize: if you have to take an elevator more than twice in the span of twenty-minutes, it’s hell. Well, down to the lobby I returned. Part of me feared the machine would suddenly be broken, given my bad luck. The good news was that it worked. I added the minimum $10 on to my card, hailed the elevator, and rode back up to the laundry room yet again.

Finally, at long last, I was able to start the wash cycle for my last two loads. It had only taken twenty-ve minutes.

It seemed as though this saga had come to an end. But just for shits and giggles, I decided to try my old card one last time. Yes, as I moved my clothes into the dryer, I pushed the broken card into the slot to see what might happen. Wouldn’t you know it? It worked RIGHT AWAY. Oh em EFF GEE. This card was totally fucking with me. I was so angry that I couldn’t even see straight. In my rage, I pressed “Colors,” which sounds like a mighty fine idea, but there was one problem: “colors” was for the washer, not the dryer. That’s right: I used my newly active old card to start a cycle in an EMPTY WASHER. I just could not win. But I was determined to. I refused to waste this hard-fought dollar. I opened the door, successfully pausing the washer. A message appeared: “Press to reselect cycle.” Alright then. I will reselect a cycle, I thought. And furthermore, I will do MORE LAUNDRY!

I then ran to my apartment, compiled all my cold-water items (which I had decided I would do on another day), and ran back to the laundry room. I threw them all into the washer, added the detergent, closed the door, and selected “Wool” (which is code for “cold” — I had no actual wool items). This was all fine and well, but the stubborn machine refused to go cold. Whaa? Clearly, it wanted to finish the warm cycle it had started — this despite its blatant offer for me to reselect a cycle. This was turning into a major disaster. The clothes needed cold water, not warm, but the machine refused. The washer — which, let’s remember, only started up because the awful WEB® Multifamily Laundry Systems card decided to suddenly work — was forcing warm water on the clothes against my will. Yes, people, I was being aggressed by laundry.

I decided this was the moment when I should take a deep breath and just relax. The warm water wouldn’t kill my hoodie. All would be well. Things would be clean. Life would move on. And so, I set my phone timer for forty-five minutes and resolved to clear my mind. It was okay. I’d have clean clothes. And wasn’t that what was most important? I think so.

And so at last I found inner peace… until my timer never went off and I had to go rushing to the laundry room to save my clothes before the person behind me tossed them out of the machine. No one ever said it was easy working from home.