The washing machine broke down and after five, or was it seven?, days wearing the same underwear, and with the neighbors complaining over the smell, I figured it was about time to seek out a facility with a capacity large enough to deal with my one ton laundry. Like a… well, a coin laundry… And then it struck me; I had no idea if they still existed. After some time researching, you know I’m also a journalist!?, I found out they do. The closest one is down the corner 300 meters away from my front door. To my defense I have to point out the very anonymous looking coin laundry with only one and a half remaining sign and logo outside and the fact that I generally don’t notice my surroundings when I move around in the city weather on foot, bicycle or by car. Anyone would have missed it. And I found it. That’s what matters. And now I have clean underwear again – at least for a while. By the way; when the hell’s the repair man gonna show up…?