Doing Laundry in San Diego

First, a general treatise on laundromats.

Is there some cosmic law against a clean, air conditioned laundromat in this world? Laundromats, like the clothes one wears when visiting them, seem to be dirty, and well past their prime. I don’t think they make new ones, because I’ve never seen one that had new machines, a clean floor, or seats that weren’t busted in some manner. Notable exception below.

I’ve recently moved to San Diego, and as part of that, I moved to an apartment that has no built in plugs for a washer and dryer in it’s units. So, I have to find a laundromat. Previously, I did my laundry here, which is apparently the only clean laundromat in all of creation, which also serves drinks and cooks some mean chicken fingers.

So, I know some people here live in San Diego. So I thought that someone might know of a nice clean laundromat. Bonus points if they serve beer. Else, we can discuss how crappy laundromats are, and any alternatives to them. Misery loves company.

When I didn’t have (good or convenient) access to laundry machines, what I would do is wait til I needed to do laundry, bag it all up in a huge duffel, and drop it at a laundromat with a cleaning service. Then I’d just come get it the next day or later that day… All perfectly clean and folded. Usually cost me about 10-15 bucks. Well worth it for not having to sit in a freaking laundromat playing an ancient pacman machine or just vegetating.

Highly recommended.

Do them in the bathtub with hot water and elbow grease.

I’d do it if I could find a damn washboard.

We’ve got a washer and dryer. You buy us pizza, we hang out while you do your laundry. Gotta bring beer though if you want to iron.

Laundromats? I guess I should be more grateful about housing standards that make laundry rooms a part of almost every apartment building.

My college town got a decent, clean laundromat the last year I lived there. A place that served middling food and bad beer, but at least it was clean. Problem was idiot smokers would smoke inside while doing their laundry. That used to drive me fucking batshit insane. I mean, the whole reason I was in there was to get my clothes to stop smelling like that. Grrrrr.

I love my washer and dryer. It is such a lovely small nirvana not to have to plan my day around being at the laundromat, worrying about staking out a row of machines, stressing over there being enough dryers. I wonder if I’ll ever rid myself of my quarter hoarding reflex, though.

“It must be hard living your life off of a couple of scraps of paper. You mix your laundry list with your grocery list you’ll end up eating your underwear for breakfast.”