Thursday, November 12, 2009

Dry Cleaning

In many ways, I am naive about life in the city, so perhaps I am flaunting my ignorance and inexperience when I say how much I enjoy the dry cleaning service that is available in the city, especially to those who dwell in large buildings with doormen.

Because of the city's seeming formality and also because we like it, Karen and I tend to dress up for work. I am always in coats and ties, she invariably dons suits and heels. Which means that we use the dry cleaner pretty often, weekly, at least. Here is how it works. We accumulate our soiled clothes that need to be dry cleaned in a bag that includes an attached tag that identifies us by address and phone number, we carry the bag the two blocks to our 71st and Broadway Organic Neighborhood Cleaner, and we drop it off with a simple "Good morning." (Incidentally, we could even leave the dirty clothes with our doorman for pick-up by the dry cleaner, but that just seems too decadent, and, after all, we do need the exercise). Then, miraculously, about two days later, at most three, it shows up in the lobby of our apartment building. We, in turn, lug the clean stuff about twenty feet to the elevator, whisk ourselves to the 6th floor, walk in to our modest but comfy studio apartment, and put everything away.

What a delight! What urban simplicity! What a way to live! And it's not even as expensive as you might think. So that's my dirty (dry cleaned?) little secret for the day and one of my chief guilty pleasures of living in the Big City.

1 comment:

  1. It's all about the doorman. Either that, or you have to stay home to let the delivery man in. Service is a subtext of Manhattan. There's always someone willing to do things for you if you have the affluence and infrastructure to make it work.