Wet Ones

On the Master List of Moronic Shit I Have Done, tonight's escapade of idiocy doesn't rank terribly high. I've told the readers of this blog before about the incident in which I dropped the only key to my company's new office down an elevator shaft. I talked about running out of gas on my way to a movie, and having to push my car up La Brea Blvd. Hell, for some bizarre reason, I even related the ludicrous drunken Christmas party anecdote.

Tonight isn't quite that stupid. But I did do something rather bumbling and idiotic, that for most people, would surely classify as among the stupider things you could do.

Tonight, I have placed my leather wallet, containing money and other important personal items, into a piping hot washing machine.

I'll back up a little. I'm always aggravated when trying to do laundry in my apartment building, because the other tenants like to take several days to complete a single load. Every time you go into the laundry room, there are clothes in both machines, but neither machine is running. People just go in, turn on the machines, and then don't return at the end of the cycle, essentially hogging the machines for 24 hours at a time, or more.

Now, I don't like to be rude. And I really don't like rooting through other people's semi-dirty underthings, like some fashion-conscious racoon. But, hey, I've got to get some laundry done. My room is starting to develop that odd inexplicable "dirty clothes funk." And once that shit appears, it lingers.

So, in my haste, tearing through the offending haberdashery and replacing it with my own personal clothing, I forgot to remove my wallet from the jeans I was wearing earlier today. I changed out of these jeans specifically so I could wash them. I haven't cleaned them in a while. A long while. In such a long while, the stains on them were beginning to exhibit signs of consciousness, and even personalities.

I thought of it about ten minutes later (while watching the documentary extra on the Persona DVD I had rented from Laser Blazer). Unfortunately, my roommates were in the front room, so I could not go about investigating my potential gaffe in secret, as I would have preferred. I had to announce officially: "I think I left my wallet in the jeans I just started washing." So, of course, when I retrieved my sopping wet accessory, I had to hold it up for all to see.

I have it in front of the fan now, hopefully drying out, though I suspect the wallet itself will not survive this incident. Fortunately, I'm not one of those jackasses who keeps all of my personal information in my wallet, so my Social Security Card remains safely stowed away in my room. (Although if asked to identify its actual specific location, I might find myself at a loss).

I do fear that my Proof of Insurance card will not make it through the night. Some of the ink has started to bleed.

In all honesty, I'm sort of amazed I've never made this particular mistake before. I guess it's because I don't do laundry too often, so I've just been postponing the inevitable.