Laundromat Review

Bringing high culture to the masses is one of the main reasons this blog exists. And what, might I ask, is more highly cultured than a laundromat?

The famous travel author Hallie Loboskovitz has just finished a book entitled "The Fifty Greatest Laundromats On The Eastern Seaboard," scheduled to be released on May 1st, 2007. Ms. Loboskovitz's two previous travel books, "The Best Rest Stops In Saskatchewan" and "Where To Find Knishes in Tennessee," have garnered much critical acclaim and are still best sellers. This latest tome promises to be just as great as the previous two.

Ms. Loboskovitz was kind enough to allow us to publish a review from the book as a preview to what we can expect. The establishment which being reviewed here is the only one she gave five stars to, which is the highest rating. Read on:

When looking for the ultimate laundromat for washing clothes while in New England, one need look no further than "Uncle Monk's Wash 'N' Pop" in Poonsockets, Rhode Island, about ten miles east of Providence. The "Wash 'N' Pop," as its affectionately known by the locals, is considered the pièce de résistance of wash spots for the weary traveler. Folks have been known to drive from as far away as Florida just to knock off a couple of loads of dirty shirts, and there's a man from Baltimore who drives up once a week just to bleach his dirty underwear and socks.

Proprietor Louis "Monk" Hargrove, an interesting and colorful man also known as "Uncle Monk," opened the "Wash 'N' Pop" in 1979 in a building which used to be the patient restraint room of "The Dwight D. Eisenhower Home For The Criminally Insane." He fondly remembers opening the place:

"Dey let me out and den da state clothes (sic) da hopital (sic). I don't ever touch dat lady, I no belonged dere. Dey clothes (sic) da hopital (sic) and let mee go. Dey give mee monies 'cuz my lawyer sues dem for locking me up. I say give me da washers and dryers and da building and I open da bizness (sic)."

When one first enters the place, an odor of clinical depression permeates the air, probably a lingering memory from the building's days as a loony bin. This feeling is quickly dispelled, however, by the sight of "The Soap Stop" franchise located near the front door next to one of TWO (that's right TWO) change machines. "The Soap Stop" is the most famous and the classiest laundry detergent dispensing franchise in the country and this particular one is the best I've seen to date. It's worth it to come here just to see this, even if you have no laundry to do (In fact, given the location's proximity to Providence, you can see both on the same day).

The machine itself is a staggering work of beauty and the way it sits against the change machine helps to highlight its grandeur. Bertha Renfru, the lady who cleans the "Wash 'N' Pop," said that "it's the main reason people brag about living in Poonsockets, especially since they tore down the 'Route 723A Drive-In'."

But alas, as grand as it may be, the launderer cannot live by "The Soap Stop" alone. And thankfully, visitors to the "Wash 'N' Pop" don't have to.

Beautiful Double Load Washers, reasonably priced at $2.50 (quarters only please!) line the far wall. Above them are handsomely lettered Art-Deco style signs exclaiming "Laundromat" and "Not Responsible for Articles Left In Washers." There are also Senior Load Washers For $4.50 and Triple Load Washers for $5.25. Says Monk Hargrove, "Da Triple Loads is great to get rid of da DNA 'cuz dey use lots of water."

The dryer used at the "Wash 'N' Pop," which is the "Corley 1000-XB Industrial," is the best in the business. There are thirty of them here. Unfortunately I was unable to photograph them because a woman was hogging twenty with various comforters she was drying and another woman was beating her up so it was impossible to get near the area. "Dat don't happen too much," says Monk, "pretty much only when dat bitch come in here." As far as I was concerned, however, it just added to the colloquial charm of the place.

Another nice touch are the chairs located against the wall by the entrance. Made out of excruciatingly comfortable hard plastic, they have chains attached to them so you can keep the kids from running rampant through the place. "I kept dem chairs from da old days. I was chained in dem once for killing a guard. Dey used to be electrocal (sic) but I took dat out.," Monk remembered.

So where does the word "Pop" in "Wash 'N' Pop" come from? "Sodee Pop" is a New Englander's term for soda and of course, every great laundromat has a soda machine. But what they don't have is Monk Hargrove, who is somewhat of a soda sommelier. The Pepsi machine at the "Wash 'N' Pop" features vintage sodas, some of which are at least twenty five years old. Lovers of Tab and Fresca in the twelve ounce cans with the flip-top opening will be absolutely thrilled. Said Monk: "When dey clothes da hopital (sic) dey lefts a lot of sodee pop in da basement. Dere was hundreds of cases in dere and so I ain't need to never buy any new sodee pops. Da health department made me get a new machine tho' (sic), so I stoled (sic) one from der bowling alley. Don't tell nobody." A local fisherman by the name of Barnaby Williams said that he "uses the Orange Crush from that damn machine to take the barnacles off my boat. I asked Monk to sell me a case but he wanted more than what it costs for me to just go in and buy cans. What an asshole."

I tried a can of the 1977 Fresca and I must say that I was pleasantly surprised by how well it had aged. It had a nice bouquet and an acidic aftertaste, sort of a cross between carburetor fluid and bleach. The soda prices vary between seventy-five cents and a dollar-twenty five, depending on the vintage.

"Uncle Monk's Wash 'N' Pop is easy to get to; just take I-95 Northbound to exit 168B, which is the exit for Old Route 723A West. Drive five miles and look for the Chuck E. Cheese on your right. The laundromat is in the next strip mall on the left, right next to the post office.

This was by far the most pleasant day I spent reviewing laundromats for this book. And it seems that Uncle Monk thought so too: "You ain't a bad lookin' broad. Could I wash your underwears (sic) for you?"

We'll let you know as the book gets closer to release date.