Washer/Dryer

Our washer/dryer broke last week.

That's just one appliance. The washer/dryer. Not the washer and the dryer. Because what's a washer?

I'm not sure about these slash appliances. You don't know where you are. Where are you? Exactly.

No-one has considered rebranding the toaster as the toaster/dryer. And it could perform that function.

Or the mug-tree as the mug-tree/gouger. Again, that would be accurate.

As our appliance was broken, we had to go to the launderette. We only have about two changes of clothes each, so it was a vital trip.

The launderette is a desolate place: huge, mechanical, Soviet cubes; dead-eyed loiterers, indecipherable instructions printed in an age before kindness; chipped tiles; smeared porthole windows providing views of a soggy industrial Clothton; Victorian arcade slot machines; closets of expired powders; viscous fug tickling your lungs like an invasive uncle.

I left Lucy to do the laundry.

I went for a walk in the sunshine. She made it back in one piece, albeit in no peace, and we now have enough clothes to last for a couple of days.

Luckily, we're getting a replacement. Not a replacement Lucy. That would be impossible. It would take some mad eugenicist decades to replicate the odd combination of genetics and experience that makes Lucy who she is. She's one of a kind.

Like Captain America. Originally intended to be the first of many - an American super-soldier: a perfect physical specimen. But sadly the serum that gave him his powers could not be replicated, as its inventor was killed by a Nazi spy. So Captain America became a symbol, inspiring the Allies to victory.

Lucy's like that. In some way.

Where was I? Oh yes: Jersey. I was in Jersey once.

But enough about that. "What about the replacement washer/dryer?" I hear you ask (at gunpoint).

It will hopefully be delivered in the next couple of days.

I'm hoping for something impossibly futuristic. I want it to wash and dry clothes instantly. I want it to be sentient. I want it to play sea shanties. I want it to give me fashion advice. I want it to house a collection of antique replica battleships. I want it to tell me I'm handsome. I want it to have flashing lights and sirens. I want it to have belonged to Jesus.

But, to be honest, I'll be happy if it cleans and dries my clothes. That's all I need. Perhaps it can also support our oven gloves/smother-pads.

"Come on, smother-pads!" it may say.