The Modern Convenience

Nowadays it’s mostly students who frequent launderettes.

- Hugh Gallagher

I hear you can even get a cup of tea and watch television in some establishments.

I remember when the launderette was the entertainment.

There used to be a launderette at the bottom of Marlborough Road near the outskirts of Creggan Estate where I lived.

Every Saturday morning depending on what it was ‘worth’ and whether I needed the money for the pictures or not I would volunteer to take care of the weekly wash or at least those items my mother did not wash by hand.

I even gathered the clothing up and deposited it into two large pillowcases tied at the necks.

That they were striped (blue, white and green) didn’t matter to me in the slightest.

As I strolled past my neighbours houses with the bags over my shoulders nobody batted an eyelid or gave me a second glance.

After all, nobody that I knew had a washing machine so we were all in the same boat.

One Saturday I was about my ‘chore’ as usual when Eamon Devlin dashed into the launderette just after I had arrived at the place.

“Hi, Hugh!” he shouted. “C’mon, we’ve nearly started.”

“Started! Started what?” I asked, placing the green plastic cup of white powder in the drawer at the top of the machine.

“The match against the College boys. Don’t tell me ye forget?”

“Sorry, Eamon, I did,” I said, rubbing my chin. “But, never worry. Hold on a wee minute till I get this here washing in and I’ll be right with ye!”

Eamon sat down with a disgusted look on his face while I loaded the machine and closed the large round door.

I placed a half-crown in the circular spot provided on a polished metal slot and pushed it forward with the palm of my hand.