Congratulations on Doing Your Laundry!

Ever since The Plague up and turned the majority of human beings into mindless, rage filled assholes who ceaselessly committed acts of violence for absolutely no purpose, rather than performing them due to racism or as a byproduct of being poorly educated, it’s been hard for “normals” who turned out to be immune to go about their daily lives. Every time you walk down the street you end up getting chased by a group of slavering dickwads who want to beat the shit out of you and the general collapse of society has made the most basic chores into life-threatening operations.

So while a year ago you might’ve just been able to stroll down to your laundry room and drop a load in your washer doing your laundry now requires a bit more effort.

You’ll begin your preparations by loading your sawed off shotgun and double checking the oil in your battle-mobile, a heavily modified Toyota Camry with spikes and a cow catcher welded to it. Then you’ll bundle up your clothes, double check your ammo and roll out of your garage, smashing through a handful of Ferals who are sitting outside your home. You won’t miss a beat, rolling down the street with your car’s chassis rattling all around you. You’ll barely slow down for turns and by the time you’ve cleared a mile your windshield will be covered with gore.

After the second mile you’ll start to wonder if you should even have tried to make it out there. Maybe it would’ve been for the best if you just wore dirty clothes and focused on planning your escape from The City. But then you’ll remember how itchy you felt the last time you tried that and dismiss those regrets for the weak-kneed hemming and hawing that they are and put the gas to the floor.

When you see the makeshift barricade surrounding the laundro-mat you’ll start honking your horn like mad, alerting the wall guards and every single Feral in eartshot to your presence. The gates will creek open and the guards will open up with some scavenged automatic weapons, knocking the snarling masses of humanity off of your Toyota Camry with unnerving ease.

Once you enter the laundromat an uncomfortable looking man in a stained tank top will ask you for your quarters. You’ll hand him a cluster of bottle caps and your clothing and he’ll shuffle off into the back, leaving you with the other laundro-mat patrons. You’ll consider striking up a conversation with that cute girl who always seems to be here at the same time that you are, but instead of going for it you’ll sit on your own, reading a year old copy of Time and thinking about all the ways you want to change your life for the better that you’ll never have the courage to follow through on.

While reading an article about Sandra Day O’Conner you’ll fantasize about walking up to that girl and ravishing her on top of a washing machine and then fleeing Los Angeles for the wilderness where the Ferals can’t survive. But instead you’ll sit quietly and consider what it was like to be on the Supreme Court with all that responsibility and then to have something like this happen and prove that it was all completely meaningless. You’ll guess that it was pretty frustrating.

Congratulations on Doing Your Laundry!