Dry Cleaners

So I went to the dry cleaners the other day to get some of my pants done. Since I’ve moved here I have been starching all my clothes on my own. Outside of the New York City area, dry cleaning is outrageously expensive. Just to make this story clear, I brought my clothes in on a Monday. They didn’t tell me the price or anything obviously. But I dropped off three pairs of pants.

I went to pick them up on Thursday and I went around 7:15. They closed at 7 it said on the door. They were still standing in there folding clothes or whatever nonsense they do at a dry cleaners. I walk in and the girl says, “we’re closed.” I just told her, “I just want to grab some pants.” She responded, “No sorry we’re closed.” I kept my cool and just walked out. I can’t get mad at everyone, especially not a girl who looked like she was barely out of high school. If I’m going to argue, I want it to at least be fair.

So I return to the dry cleaners the next night…at exactly 6:59, just to be a dick. They actually didn’t give me a problem which was surprising to me (and also sort of a let down). I give her my name and she grabs me my pants and she says, “36.50 please.” 36.50! What the fuck are they doing to the pants for that kind of money. You might as well get a new pair of fucking pants. I say “What could possibly cost $36.50.” She said, “Well, we did an amendment” (at least that’s what I heard). I said,” An amendment! An amendment to what? The fucking U.S. Constitution?” She looked at me like I was a moron obviously. No they didn’t take any money off for “mending” not “amending.” Apparently I was a bit confused. Fucking $36.50 though. That’s actually insane. So, I will not be dry cleaning pants ever again. At least not for a few months. No Ragrets.

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