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La lessive du samedi soir

Part café, part laundromat, all cool.
It was a mild hike from the burbs to “Blanc de blanc, lavomatik kafé” on the Plateau in Montreal.
My parents’ washing machine was out of commission on my December visit and suburbia wasn’t sympathetic to my need to do laundry on a Saturday night.
So off I went, dirty clothes in a backpack and loose change in my jacket pocket, trekking by foot, bus and métro to rue Villeneuve near Ave. du Parc.
This welcoming café is paired with a large room housing two rows of washing machines and dryers.
Some visitors are like me, seeking someplace nice to hang out while looking to clean a load of laundry. Others are there just for someplace nice to hang out or to study. It’s a café, after all.
When I walk in, I hear songs from the latter half of Arcade Fire’s debut album, Funeral, followed by their second, Neon Bible. It’s a pleasant soundtrack augmenting my chore.
While my laundry soaked, spun and dried, I passed the time by reading, editing photos and enjoying a café allongé with a yummy home-baked oatmeal-cranberry cookie.
A pile of clothes abandoned on the worktable in the middle of the room turns into still life for my smartphone camera.
As I get ready to head out, the music from the speakers switches to all Bob Dylan, all the time.
Good music, relaxed atmosphere, tasty snacks and, of course, clean clothes.
There are certainly worse ways to get the laundry done.