Coming clean on laundry routine

October 03, 2004

I’m not sure laundry day will ever be the same.

The laundry service here at Camp Taji has ruined me, and not just because they wash, dry and fold every piece of clothing I own.

It’s the whole laundry experience here that is unlike any I’ve ever witnessed.

There is a constant parade of soldiers hiking down the dusty road — Gamecock Avenue to be exact — to the laundry shack and carrying bags stuffed with the dirtiest of clothes.

They walk through a metal door to find a bank of plywood tables and a variety of Filipino men singing along to classic 1980s music.

It’s always ’80s music day at the Kellogg Brown and Root laundry shack.

The first time I went there, they had Madonna’s “Material Girl” blaring.

They were on an Air Supply kick for a while: “Only the nights are longer...”

But today was David Lee Roth’s rendition of the Beach Boys hit, “I wish they all could be California girls.”

Lt. Col. John Edwards of Little Rock walked into the laundry shack today to find our friendly Filipino laundry guys singing along.

That’s not odd since they do like to sing.

And, I must say they like it when the crowd joins in. Really, who can resist singing along to cheesy ’80s music?

Edwards painted the picture beautifully.

“There I was, counting out my underwear while the Filipino guys sang the Beach Boys,” he said. “Some of them were even moving their heads to the music.”

He didn’t say so, but I suspect Edwards joined in on the singing.

I thought the Beach Boys sounded like an odd music selection for our ’80s loving laundry guys. Only later, as he drove off from the Taji Bureau, did Edwards lean out of his humvee door and yell, “Oh ya! It was the David Lee Roth version.”

Of course it was!

See, I always come out of the laundry shack laughing.

But I never really realized how funny it is in there until I heard someone else talk about it.

It’s a funny place.

The workers are very friendly, always quick to say hello. Sometimes, you’ll see them dance by in the back of the shack as they put away laundry bags.

But it’s very surreal to stand there and count out your dirty duds to a singing man.

We have to dump our laundry bags and count every item: one T-shirt, 13 socks (that happens a lot), six drawers, three pants ... you get my drift.

They inventory your tabulation on a sheet and then you shove it all back into the bag and hope for the best.

Three days later, it’s washed, dried, folded and waiting to be picked up.

That, in itself, is easy to get used to.

Not having to do laundry is nice. The laughter and fun of the laundry shack is a bonus.

Laundry pick-up is through a different door at the shack.

And it’s staffed by a different group of smiling Filipino men who are singing along to their own CD player with ’80s music.

Yep, I’ve seen dancing there, too.

And I’ve joined in on the singing a time or two, too.

The most amazing part of the laundry pickup, however, is the folding.

They can fold underwear into the smallest, tightest ball I’ve ever seen.

Soldiers talk about it.

It’s a marvel of physics, if you ask me.

We’ve all tried to crack the code on how they do it.

I’ve tried time and again to duplicate it.

No matter how hard I try, I can’t fold my underwear that well.

Maybe it’s the ’80s music.

Posted by Amy at October 3, 2004 03:48 PM