Change

Some years ago, my washing machine broke down and I was forced to go to one of my least favorite places in the entire universe - the laundrette.

Laundrettes are draining. I don't know if it's the dull hum of all the machines, or the lack of effort that's gone into the decor, or the other people that frequent it who are just as pissed off as I am because their washing machine has broken down, but I come away feeling like someone has sucked all the joy out of me. The only time I have ever enjoyed a laundrette was when I went into one by mistake after eating a hash cake, but that was a very long time ago and another story.

I had literally run out of clothes and could just about find a very scruffy tracksuit to go to the laundrette in. While my clothes were being washed, I decided I could no longer bear sitting in a depressing laundrette watching my clothes go round and round. These were the days before ipods, mp3 players, mobile phones etc. I'd forgotten to take a book, alright?

So I sat on a bench outside, shivering in the cold but still preferring it to the warm but grim surroundings of the dull laundrette. About 10 minutes later, a couple of city workers came up to me, and thinking I'm homeless, gave me about £30 between them, telling me to "stay safe and keep warm tonight." Luckiliy, my nearby flat in Goodge Street ticked both of those boxes. I didn't have the heart to turn them down (especially not after they'd just insulted me).

Art Exhibition, City & Islington College