gremlins with spritzers?

So we all know about the sock stealing gremlins in dryers and I’ve had my fare share of those as well over the years. Thankfully I still have all the socks that I brought to Newfoundland. I’ve pondered numbering and tagging them as an experiment, but I only have so much absurdity to spread around at any given time that cataloging my socks will just have to wait. Tragic I know.

Back to the matter at hand, I’ve noticed a disturbing trend in my weekly laundering.

I keep a pretty good eye on my clothes while they’re in the drying contraption and check when there’s a couple minutes left to see if they need more time or not. Without fail my clothes are uniformly dry but, remembering the slightly damp clothes of last week, I dutifully pop another quarter or two in the machine and walk away.

And five to ten minutes later, my clothes have suddenly become wetter than they were previously. They’ve undried. Becoming Zombies of the laundromat, clothes that have risen from dryness to become wet again. My only hope is to fend them off with a hair dryer before they soak any other clothes.

How do they become laundry zombies? It must be the extra time. This thing, this quarter which is added when the timer is so close to the end must trigger some sort of alarm. Somewhere. I’m betting in the wall behind the dryers. From there, the Gremlins know to strike. Gremlins, armed with water to raise their unholy army of laundry zombies!

Furthermore, I’m positive it’s no coincidence that there’s a bar next door and it’s only a matter of time before they break out the spritzers and rum. Alcohol soaked laundry zombies, while more susceptible to fire, are a stronger breed of laundry zombies. Unholy warriors if you will.

I’m sure, when this happens and I’m wearing rum soaked clothes to work, the conversation would go something like:

Some co-worker: Devo, are you drunk?
Not-drunk Devo: Me? No. It’s just that the laundry gremlins soaked my socks with rum last night. That’s all. But don’t worry, it’s okay. I killed the laundry zombie before wearing them. Honest.
Stunned co-worker: …

That kind of conversation can only end well. And with a medal or something.

So remember, next time your clothes are slightly wet or smell of rum, I’m not crazy. Honest.