Laundry

Dorm life, I have been warned, can be quite interesting- in all senses of the word. For one thing, kids have to do their own laundry, and not all of them know how to do so. My roommate, for instance, has been asking me questions like "what can I put in the washing machine?" "what is the difference between the 'colors' button and the 'whites' button?" etc. I thought that (thanks to my mother's insistence that I'd have to do laundry on my own someday anyway) I had learned pretty much everything there was to know about clothes-washing. So yesterday I got all my dirty clothes in a basket, and went down to the laundry room to see what was what (then ran back upstairs, having forgotten the soap. Yeah, memory like an elephant). I chose my machine, put my quarters in the rather full-sounding slot, put in the soap, and started the machine. When I came back an hour later, I opened the door, and looked in. Oddly, the clothes didn't look wet. They didn't feel wet either- they felt warm and sticky. And the mud stains on my caving shirt were still there....
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I "washed" my clothes in the dryer (they got sticky from the evaporated soap). And this is the girl who goes to an ivy league school. Sigh. So I took the clothes out, stuck 'em in one of the real washing machines (the ones on the other side of the room that said "washing machine" in nice, clear black letters) and started the load.
Maybe I shouldn't be a translator after all... maybe the profession of absentminded professor is the one for me.
over 'n out.