Lavandería

“When I tell you this, I don’t want you to think I’m prejudice, cuz I’m not!”

“But the Mexicans are killing this place!  They overload the washers, pour all of their bleach

  and shit into these machines and leave it for hours!”

“They don’t give a fuck!”

“Even the dryers. They never empty the fucking godamn lint!”

“I’ve been in here with EVERY washer and dryer DONE...FINISHED... TERMINADO...

  waiting for them to be emptied so that somebody else could use them!  Hours at a time!”

“It really pisses me off!”

“I’ve actually emptied them myself so that I could do MY fucking laundry!”

“All flourescent clothes bought at WALMART.  That’s how you can tell which dryers you’ll

  be waiting around for.”

“You def don’t want to go up to the Northside laundromat, because the Enchiladas that live

  in the apartments above send their kids down to watch the TV like it’s their living room.

  It’s TELEMUNDO down there 24/7!  Niños running around in there like it’s a playground.  

  No babysitter.”

“You might think I’m harsh, but...”

“It’s hard enough to come here and do my laundry.  But when machines are broken and

  smell like shit when you first open the door and you have to go down five machines

  before you find one that smells halfway decent and doesn’t have gum melted into the 

  drum...I tell you...something is DEFINITELY WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE.”

“And I’m TELLING you, I’m NOT prejudice. This is just something I have to deal with

  EVERYTIME I come in here.”

“I like their food though...you ever try that taqueria place up the block?  The burrito carnitas

  is to die for...”