Question #2 for the big Week O' Asking All Kinds of Things We Shouldn't:
Surprisingly enough, I don't actually mean for you to air your dirty laundry. (But that might be an excellent choice for later in the week! Let me think on that.)
No, what I'm talking about is doing laundry. (Laundry being a lovely euphemism for s-e-x.) You know, having the laundry pile up; needing to a big ol' load of laundry; some loads of laundry need to be done on the gentle cycle; running a solo load (ahem!); or Not Using Your Washing Machine For A Few Months Because You Used To Be A Huge Pregnant And Then Just Had A Baby And When You Finally Get Around To Thinking About Doing Laundry You Find That The Damn Thing Is ALL Out Of Whack. I'm sorry, what just happened here? Did I just regurgitate venom and bile from my own life? So sorry.
The task at hand, kids, is this:
Tell us, where is the most fantastic place that you have ever done laundry?
(If you don't think that you have a whole lot to offer on this, make something up. We'll never know. Also, I may fly under the Anon flag on this one, and understand if you do too. ALTHOUGH, you know we're nosey, twisted kids and would just loooove for y'all to own up to your dirty laundry room!)
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14 tips left at the bar:
On the kitchen table. Which, I know is not the most exotic of locales. But I was making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich at the time for a school lunch and I never did put down the knife or the piece of bread with peanut butter on it. I think I should get extra points for that. Also, nine months later, I had a beautiful baby boy. I toyed with the idea of giving him the nickname "Woody" (it was an oak table), but, for a number of reasons... decided against it. Thanks for the memories. The only laundry I do these days is the kind with tide and bleach.
Glad I went back and re-read the challenge. Because all I could think about was the enormous loads of laundry sitting in my hallway to the laundry room. That is another story...
Hmm, all I'm going to say is there is a very special outdoor table at the Hilton in Santa Fe, New Mexico. And the funny thing is, years later, I had drinks sitting there with two girlfriends and after we had a drink I told them the whole story and they ordered a bottle of champagne to celebrate!!
I thought this was about real laundry, and I was going to tell you all how wierd I am & that I love to fold clothes. But this is altogether different...
Let me think on this one & getback to you.
And with only two comments so far, I think it's funny that tables are so popular!
Uh. I don't want to say. But somewhere in Montana there is a rest stop bathroom....that has nothing to do with the story! HAHAHA. Or does it?
So my friend had these parents, and these parents had a big whirlpool tub. And this friend had a party while these parents were out of town. And this whirlpool tub? YEAH.
Where are the Smartini girls on this?!
WAKE UP, Ladies, and give us the dirt!
Haha! I was wondering the same thing, where's the rest of the girls!
I'm holding back on my answer. Still thinking. And am totally going to post anonymously...:)
Good stuff!
That Miss Thystle. .such a tease!
I have been thinking on my answer, too.
In high school, there were quite the contortions in a Camaro and other vehicles and trucks. And places not quite as exotic, but when others (parents! siblings!) were home! showers. multiple work locals. Once there was an incident of pre-wash/hand washing in the Botanical Gardens pathway.
Too many of the Smartini ladies know me and the Camaro, so it would have done no good to go Anon.
Also, I, too, enjoy doing actual laundry. I love clean clothes smell. I just don't like having to put them up!
I would have to say the stairs in an apartment I used to live in -- the Brady bunch kind of stairs, that open up between each step.
Oh, and the stairs were inside the apartment.
Underneath the wide open prairie sky.
on the beach
The most fantastic place... hmmmm- It's not the strangest place. But the most fantastic place was Venice. A day exploring, a night at St. Mark's Square listening to the dueling orchestras while sipping hot chocolate, eating a fabulous dinner on the canal, riding a gondola under the Bridge of Sighs, drinking wine... followed by "Thank God you're safely home from Iraq" mind-blowing sex. 'Nuff Said.
Oh- does "road head" count? And is there any point in me signing this anonymously?
A restaurant bathroom in Manhattan. That's all I can say.
PS - A really NICE restaurant. Think Michelin five star, jackets-required kind of place.
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