By Amanda Hunt
Arizona Daily Wildcat February 16, 1996
I have only one true goal in life.
No, it's not a fancy car, fabulous career, gorgeous home or beautiful children.
I just want my own washer and dryer. To me that would be absolute luxury.
Ahh ... different cycles - permanent press and delicate, heavy duty and normal. Just think ... I could walk to the washer without having to put my shoes on or that hideous mismatched ensemble (accessorized with the fashionable excuse, "Hey, it's laundry day."). Imagine ... an automatic fabric softener release, a lint filter with only my own lint, and NO MORE QUARTERS!
Why are quarters such a problem? Is there a national shortage or something?
If only I had a quarter for every time I heard a 7-Eleven clerk say, "Oh, I'm sorry. I can only give you $2 in quarters. Otherwise we might run out."
Who's going to run out? The Federal Reserve? Just get more quarters!
Anyway, since I haven't attained my lofty aspirations for a pair of Maytag dependables, I have to face the harsh reality.
A week ago my bedroom looked like a small scale model of the Foothills, rendered in laundry. Not that this private museum exhibit is a once-in-a-lifetime show, but it happened to be two days before my parents were coming to visit.
I had no other option but to rappel the mountain of dirty clothes, and do some laundry. This always presents a problem, because it means I must have cash (more of those dreadful quarters).
I once wrote a check for 59 cents, so the chance of my having $5 in quarters on hand is pretty slim.
So I made my semiannual trip to the $10 ATM in the Union - convenient both because it spits out small amounts of cash (good when there is frequently a small amount of cash in the account it is coming from) and because it's near several change machines.
I headed up to the change machine by Domino's. Quarters are coming, I thought.
I gently unfolded one of the $5 bills, slid it in the slot and anxiously awaited the clatter of coins.
It came right back. OK, I'll try the other five, I thought.
Nothing. It must be these bills, I thought.
So I asked the Domino's guy for a different five, thinking the machine had something against my money.
That didn't work.
"I'm sorry," the Domino's guy said. "I'd just give you the quarters, but we might run out."
I went downstairs to Sam's Place. (By the way, why is "Sam"'s face green?)
Quarters are coming, I thought.
I slid one of my fives into the machine. Nothing, not even a sound.
I asked the Sam's Place guy for some singles.
I slid a dollar in the machine. It took the bill. It clicked. It churned. It spit out two quarters.
"The machine only gave me 50 cents," I told the Sam's Place guy.
"OK, here's the other 50 cents, just sign this sheet of paper," he said.
So I wrote my name under a list of a thousand others.
"Can I just get $5 in quarters?" I asked the Sam's Place guy.
"Sure, all you had to do is ask."
I've decided to marry the Maytag man.
Amanda Hunt is features editor of the Arizona Daily Wildcat. Her column appears every other Friday.