I’ve successfully avoided having to address my tack hoarding issues for years but earlier this week things finally came to a head. I agreed to haul a barnmate to a dressage clinic this weekend and didn’t want to get sued when she opened my trailer tack room and literally got buried alive in “stuff.”
“But it’s IMPORTANT stuff, your honor!” would be my argument to the judge. You never know when you’re going to run across a horse that would benefit from that shadow roll cover I bought for $10 (a bargain!) at a consignment tack shop in Aiken. Likewise, that left glove I’ve been missing since 1997 could turn up any day now. USCTA memorabilia? Who knows how much that’s going for on eBay. And if you’re hating on my massive bit collection, let’s be honest: you’re just jealous.
Anyway, I knew that if I could just get the bulky stuff out of there — blankets, extra saddle pads and the like — and store them in my basement, it would free up a lot of room. I pulled it all out into the light of day to get a better feel for just how much like sweaty armpit mold everything actually smelled.
Yep. These bad boys weren’t going anywhere until they passed through a laundromat. I piled it all up in the back of my truck and set off in the direction of the sketchiest one-county-over laundromat I hadn’t yet been banned from.
#ProTips: Attributes of an ideal laundromat for horse laundry…
Visit during off-hours if you can — 2 a.m. is ideal. But still wear a ball cap and sunglasses just in case.
Steer clear of laundromats that offer amenities like free wifi, drop-off service and kid play areas — you and your filthy disgusting poop-perfumed horse laundry will NOT be welcome.
1980s arcade games are a bonus.
Step #1: Stake out the largest industrial-size washer(s) in the joint. Stuff in the goods as fast as you can, then dump in two to three times the amount of detergent that the sign tells you to use.
Step #2: Act casual as you lean up against the machine, blocking the view of sloshing brown water as best you can from security cameras.
That ain’t no chocolate milk.
Step #3: Suddenly remember that you are still wearing your breeches, which is the laundromat equivalent of a bank robber wearing pantyhose on their head. Good job, Captain Obvious.
Step #4: As soon as your laundry is finished (and you’ve cleaned out the washers/driers if you trashed them) make like Sea Biscuit and get out of there AS FAST AS POSSIBLE. As you leave, wave goodbye because you can never show your face here again.
Don’t forget to grab your souvenir hairballs! Can’t wait to show these babies to my husband.
Have any eventer-goes-to-the-laundromat tips and/or horror stories? Share them in the comments!
Go Eventing.
