Daily Rant
Son of a bitch, it happened again.
Here I am in Paris, City of Lights. Not far away from the Gare de Lyon train station. My hotel is the Hotel Lyon Bastille, which is one of the nicer places you can get in Paris for around 100 euros a night (technically, it's still a dump, but a well run dump with nice staff and free wireless internet).
I ask the attendant (her name is Sophie) if they have a laundry service. She says no, but there is a laundromat around the corner. I said thanks, and the next day (this morning), I went with my clothes to get it done and over with (I hate laundry).
The machine is a bit different, they have a central system where you pick your machine, you pay, and it starts automatically. The machines are front loaders, and you can't open them until it's done. I check the chart, the two loads of wash, washers 10 and 9, will be done in forty minutes. Great, I'll come back in thirty-five minutes and I'll watch them in the dryer.
I get in after thirty-five minutes, and there is a guy that asks me in French if washer number 9 is my washer. I say yes, and he tells me that he accidentally hit 9 instead of 7 and my clothes are being washed and he wants his money back. I tell him that's his problem, but I was more concerned about washer number 10.
It was empty.
Dammit! How could this have happened? I'm five minutes early (apparently their clocks use the same scale as a fisherman's ruler). The only saving grace is that they got a short load of t-shirts, socks, and one pair of Ralph Lauren boxer briefs. That I have no more t-shirts is a pain in the butt, but if the guy didn't accidentally put more money in my machine, I would be out about $500 worth of shirts and slacks.
The guy was nice enough, and I gave him half his money back. We talked a bit more, and I'm not sure where he was from, but it was a good chance to speak some French. I told him I lived in California, and that I am here on business. He asked me if California has a lot of police. Then he talked more about police. He really liked talking about the police, like he looks out for them all the time. Frankly, I suspect that if I arrived about five minutes earlier, he would have been talking to them again, because I would have been calling for them.
But, I started this post complaining about it happening again. This is not a phenomenon local to Paris, it happened to me once in San Diego in a hotel laundry, somebody took my Red Sands beach shorts out of the dryer. My first thought then, as it was today, was if they try them on before they took them. After all, you don't want to look foolish in stolen clothes that are too short.
Farewell Reader, have a good day.
Hussman
