Why Would Anybody Want That?

Last Updated on: 26th September 2013, 12:47 pm

Today I officially lost my faith in humanity and learned a valuable lesson at the same time. People will steal absolutely anything, no matter how much actual value it happens to have.

I’ve been feeling a little under the weather for the last couple days so being the helpful soul that she is my girlfriend was making the trips up and down the stairs to do my laundry so I didn’t have to. I intended to do it myself but I quickly realized that any time I went either up or down the stairs of the building my head would start spinning and I would pretty much keel over from dizziness. But enough about me and my wining, back to the story.

Now I’m what you might call a veteran on the apartment laundry scene. For the better part of 5 years I’ve been washing my clothing in various apartment settings in an effort to promote cleanliness in my personal life and to set an example for those who don’t always have the same ideals and higenic standards that I try to set forth for myself to live by.

Through all of my victories and struggles one thing has stayed constant, my trusty basket. Bought from a store who’s name escapes me sometime in mid 1999, my laundry basket, affectionately known to all who loved him as My Laundry Basket has remained by my side, proudly carrying my dirty clothes to meet their eventual cleansing and then helping me bring them back to my place of residence with that very same honour and dignity where they would then be nicely folded and returned to their resting places. For 5 years My Laundry Basket and I traveled the stairwells and elevators of Ontario together becoming friends and more than that, brothers in house work. We shared about as much as a man and an inanimate object can share, I mean come on, he saw all my underwear and everything. But my point is that the 2 of us were inseparable, that is until today.

Like I mentioned previously, my trusty girlfriend was on this day charged with the task of accompanying My Laundry Basket on it’s humanitarian mission since I was on the disabled list. This has happened before and all parties had always returned unharmed, proving to me that they could be trusted to work together as a team, which is why I had no reservations about them doing so on this day.

I think it was about 1:41 in the afternoon when the unthinkable happened. The love of my life, having gone to place clothes in the dryer came rushing into our home in an obvious panic.

“Your basket is gone,” she said, “somebody took it.”

The words cut me like a knife. The sense of loss was immediate, so much so that against my better judgment I decided to brave the stairs once again in a heroic bid to rescue My Laundry Basket from who knows what horrible fate. This can’t possibly be happening, I thought as I walked. First of all, who would want a 5-year-old laundry basket, especially one that belonged to a complete stranger? Think about it, who knows what kind of horrors may have sat in the bottom of that thing?

When I reached the laundry room my worst fears were confirmed, the basket was gone. What was once a simple pay to wash laundry room had transformed into an abduction scene right before my very eyes. But as much as the pain of being separated from something that was almost family was eating at me, I had to laugh. I had to laugh at the patheticism of the sad individual who would feel the need to take somebody’s laundry basket rather than just going out and dropping 4 bucks on one of his own like I now have to do thanks to his or her lack of consideration and respect for a fellow tenant.

When the laughter finally subsided I also made a vow to myself, and to my dearly departed friend. If ever I’m down in the depths of our building washing my clothes and I happen to see my old friend sitting there, I’m taking him back. Call it vigilanty justice, call it pettiness, call it what you will, just don’t call it theft. For as the great Sam Roberts says in
the number 2 song of the year,
“It’s alright to get caught stealing back what you’ve lost.”

So goodbye to you my trusted friend, you may be gone, but you will never be forgotten. For though there will be other baskets, you’ll always be my first.

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