TRIGGER WARNING: Laundry abuse (but seriously, this chapter is fine xD)

After reporting what had happened with the washer to my landlord, Mr. Lopez, I went back into the laundry room to show him what had happened.

"Well, it's a pretty old machine, it just probably decided to die. I guess it's about time I replaced it, anyway." Mr. Lopez half-heartedly kicked at the corner of the machine. 

He unlocked the quarter-holder and gave me my money back. "Sorry about your laundry, Mr. Joseph."

"It's okay," I promised. After Mr. Lopez left, I fished my wet, soapy laundry out of the washer and put it into a large plastic tub.

Now what? My laundry still wasn't clean, and it wasn't like i could ask my neighbors if I could use one of their washers to do the job. As far as I knew, everybody used the one I'd just pulled my soaked clothes out of.

I suddenly got an idea. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I dialed a number.

After a few rings, somebody picked up. "Hello?"

"Josh, can I do my laundry at your place?"

__________

Credit to artist, artist unknown