There comes a point every week (or, if I stretch it, every two weeks) when I must make a decision: go do laundry, or go to the store to buy more underwear.

I've chosen to buy more underwear once. Then I figured out that it is cheaper to do laundry than to buy new underwear every few weeks.

That was a long time ago, though.

This being a college town, there's a vast array of laundromats to choose from. Some bright-minded entrepreneur came up with a great idea a few years ago. "If we put a bar in a laundromat, people will come to drink beer and do their laundry at the same time! We'll be rich!"

And they are rich. But that place is too damn crowded, even on a Sunday. I don't know if this was part of their Plan or not, but they have a gazillion washers and only 12 dryers. So you have to wait to use a dryer most of the time. Since you're waiting you might as well drink a beer.

Clever, no?

But like I said, that place is way too crowded for me. There are two other laundromats that I frequent. If my First Choice is busy (ie, if there's more than four cars parked out front) I use the Other Place.

My First Choice is run by this sweet little old lady who must be about 90. Well, she smokes, so she might only look 90. She runs a tight ship. Everything is squeaky clean, and she knows just how to hit the dryers to make them work.

But since it's right next to the university, it gets a little crowded. I hate having to wait to use a dryer. (And why is it that you're always waiting for a dryer? Never a washer, just dryers. Are dryers more expensive than washers? "Ok, we'll order 50 washers and 3 dryers. That ought to be a good combination.")

The Other Place is across town, and it's mostly locals who use it. They have lots of dryers. Lots and lots. In fact, I think they might have equal numbers of dryers and washers! What a concept.

So, why isn't this place my First Choice? Simple.

It's sticky.

Everything there is sticky. The tables, the washer controls, the chairs, even the walls are sticky. It's like there was a giant pop can in there and it exploded, leaving a sticky residue on everything. I don't understand how it's always sticky, either. The attendant is always running around with a rag, wiping every surface down. Maybe the rag spreads the stickiness around.

If there's one hygiene issue that bothers me, it's stickiness. I can deal with dirt. Filth I can handle. But if it's sticky, I attack with a vengeance. Once you touch something sticky, you can't get rid of the feeling that there's something on you.

Disgusting.