Passive-aggressive washing machines and other nonsense

>> Thursday, 26 May 2016

It has become clear that our LG washing machine hates us.

In fact, it hates us SO much that on Tuesday, when I go down into the basement to empty it, I discover that it's walked it's way to the edge of 6 inch high shelf it's situated on and thrown itself off.    Now, it's lying forlornly face-down on the floor, looking nothing less than pathetic.

"I can't take any more" it says.  "Go on without me" it says.

Well obviously, it doesn't.  But if an inaminate object could speak, that's what I would hear.

I look down at it.  "When did it get this bad? Was it really necessary to end it all, just to avoid another load of the Boys' sports kit?  You should have said something! It's not as if I put a heavy load in this morning..."

It sighs deeply, leaking water over the basement floor.  "You say 'not heavy'.  But when was the last time you tried washing a king-sized duvet cover and base sheet?"

"Honestly? I've got no answer to that."

"Thought not" it harrumphs.

From the other side of the room the tumble dryer watches smugly.

"And you can just shut up," the washing machine mutters.

The tumble dryer looks affronted. "What did I do?"

"Nothing!  That's the whole fxxking point!  Bloody nothing!  She hardly ever uses you, you never pull your weight properly; a few sheets and towels each week and that's it.  Jesus, if I had your workload I wouldn't have to crawl forward to the edge of this precipice (the tumble dryer and I both look at the 6 inch high shelf and forebear to comment) and throw myself off it."

There's silence in the cold, clammy basement.  Because the washing machine is right, of course; I don't use the tumble dryer, not really.  No need to when there's a drying rack and an airing cupboard.  But a washing machine? That's indispensable.  I tell it so.

"But - you're indispensable!"

"Ha!  Should have treated me better then, shouldn't you?  The odd clean-out of my detergent draw, the even rarer wipe-round of the seal, it's not enough.  So I'm off to the great recycling yard in the sky in the hope that whatever poor machine you get to replace me is shown a Little More Respect."  I clear my throat.  "No!  Don't speak to me!  I have nothing more to say.  I'm shutting down now, and there's nothing you can do to stop me.  Farewell, cruel world!"

And with that, it leaks it's final drop of soapy water and expires.

The tumble dryer and I look at each other.

I shrug.  "There's still some wet laundry in there.  A duvet cover and a sheet..."

The tumble dryer creaks ominously.  "I'm in mourning."

"You're WHAT?"

"I'm in mourning.   You might not understand but we were close, that LG and me."

I raise a sceptical eyebrow.  "Really..."

"Oh yes.  So feel free to put that wet un-spun laundry into me, but I just... I don't know how I'll handle it.  I might be forced to blow hot and cold.  And then hot again.  Too hot - if you know what I mean.  So if I were you, I would just trot along to that laundrette at the end of the street and spin the sheets properly, before you even think of opening my door.  If I were you..."

I cram the soaking laundry into a plastic bag and stand to leave.

"Oh - and whilst you're at it?"

I stop and wait.  What now?

"I'd really appreciate a clean out of my filter, and an empty condensing drawer.  When you have a moment..."

I give the tumble dryer a steely look.  "You're not trying to take advantage of this... unpleasantness, are you?"

"Gosh, no!  How could I do that?  I'm just a tumble dryer, after all.  Sitting here.  All alone.  On my lonesome.  Alone, alone, alone.... All alone on a 6 inch high shelf..."  It peers sadly over the edge of what the LG had referred to as the 'precipice'.

I sigh and empty the filter and condenser before taking the wet washing down the road to the laundrette.

Because I know when I'm beaten...


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