When the washing machine at home particularly does not exist the time to discover prague's self service laundries must have came.. sooner or later. Instead of having an Sunday afternoon tea i'm sitting now in one of such places in a cellar of one of the rich bourgeoisie houses in Vinohrady.
Considering that most of the American romantic comedies starts in a laundry where the main characters meet, I needed first half an hour to choose a suitable out fit... it's not so easy when all your wardrobe is already smelling inside of a big blue ikea bag waiting for delivery to the laundry. My aunt always said that there is no sense to go to the movies to watch romantic comedies and pay the price of a ticket to multiplex as you will get the dvd added to some housewife's magazin in 5 months for 20 % of that, but who would not help the charm of the 10th muse.
So here we go... i'm running along the empty Korouni street carring the bag looking exactly the same as the sellers from post soviet union countries in the open air markets I remember from my childhood. When crossing the street a fatalistic thought came to me – what if I would be knocked down by a car now? Well, the Art Nouveau facades could see the Prague's version of Emily from Devil wears Prada. Just a low brand version.
For a humanist a the prophecies of the Apocalypse are much easier to understand than laundry machine manual. Then a risky decision – dark and bright colours – together or separately.. today I'm a gambler in a laundry cellar. Take that risk! Now the machine is rolling and I have while to relax. What is the guy sitting opposite me writing in his notebook? Nineteen century Parisian writer's created their works in numerous cafes... should be the laundry a new „creative” destination?
And one more question... what shall actually mean the Tatlin's Tower painted on the wall? Washer's of the world, unite!