Here is London: home of the brash, outrageous, and needlessly complicated instructions
I write a monthy column for the TriCity News, an alternative newspaper focusing on the arts, culture, and politics in eastern Monmouth County, New Jersey - where I lived before moving to London. The column, published every third Thursday of the month, examines what it's like to be an expat American living in London. My third piece, "Here is London: home of the brash, outrageous, and needlessly complicated instructions," was originally published in the July 13, 2006 edition of The TriCity News. Enjoy.
Here is London: home of the brash, outrageous, and needlessly complicated instructions
copyright Chris Osburn 2006
Okay, so here we are in London. For the time being, Emilia and I are living in a corporate flat arranged by her new employer. In a few weeks, we'll move to a more permanent residence. This flat is nice and in an excellent location but too tiny for a couple to do much more than continue living out of suitcases. So, as was the case with my last week in Jersey, I still feel like I'm in limbo. Unsettled feelings aside, limbo is rather comfortable but can be a bit confounding to figure out. Case in point: the damned two-in-one washer/dryer in the kitchen.
Yes, the washing machine and the clothes dryer are one in the same. Sounds like a space-saving convenience, right? It's not. In fact, it's enough to transform my limbo into full-on hell! It washes well enough, I suppose, but utterly lacks initiative when it comes to drying what’s been dampened. So, unless we’re willing to dedicate the several hours required to fully dry a wet load of laundry, we gotta hang 'em up in the kitchen … not ideal when we're already short on space.
Of course, having lived in London before, I was prepared for this domestic quirk. What I wasn't prepared for was how confounding one particular model of the washer/dryer combo could be. I've only had to do laundry a few times, but each time has been a pain in the Royal Ascot. The device features no discernible "on" button, and none of the other buttons and dials (there are 12 "controls" in all) is adequately labeled. Thus, I reached for ye olde instruction manual for guidance.
According to page 18 (yep, it takes a considerable while for the manual's plot to thicken), in order to start the washing machine, one must first “make sure plumbing and electrical installations have been done correctly” (thanks for the tip, Sherlock) and, after a few other obvious statements, continues thusly:
At this stage, turn the start, stop and temperature dial <> until the <> symbol (cold wash) or the wash temperature coincides with the reference pointer in the display window. The operating indicator light <> will come on. After 10 seconds the machine will automatically position itself and carry out the programmed cycle. During the program the indicator light <> will stay on. Warning – If for any reason you want to stop the machine when it is operating, you need to proceed as described in the chapters <> on page 20.
Okay. I'm pretty sure I followed the above instructions each time I mustered the nerve to have a go at this contraption. But, each time I attempted to simply wash a load, the dry cycle ran (at least twice) before getting to the wash cycle. Fun.
As Nietzsche so smarmily put it, "What don't kill ya, makes ya stronger." At least, that's the lesson I'm taking from these adventures with ye olde instruction manual-on-washing. Perhaps I've discovered why the British have, for centuries, had such a toehold on the rest of the world: even in the most mundane of circumstances, they must rise to a challenge, solve a conundrum, and carry on as best they can. I can feel my upper lip stiffening as I write these words.
http://www.trinews.com
Here is London: home of the brash, outrageous, and needlessly complicated instructions
copyright Chris Osburn 2006
Okay, so here we are in London. For the time being, Emilia and I are living in a corporate flat arranged by her new employer. In a few weeks, we'll move to a more permanent residence. This flat is nice and in an excellent location but too tiny for a couple to do much more than continue living out of suitcases. So, as was the case with my last week in Jersey, I still feel like I'm in limbo. Unsettled feelings aside, limbo is rather comfortable but can be a bit confounding to figure out. Case in point: the damned two-in-one washer/dryer in the kitchen.
Yes, the washing machine and the clothes dryer are one in the same. Sounds like a space-saving convenience, right? It's not. In fact, it's enough to transform my limbo into full-on hell! It washes well enough, I suppose, but utterly lacks initiative when it comes to drying what’s been dampened. So, unless we’re willing to dedicate the several hours required to fully dry a wet load of laundry, we gotta hang 'em up in the kitchen … not ideal when we're already short on space.
Of course, having lived in London before, I was prepared for this domestic quirk. What I wasn't prepared for was how confounding one particular model of the washer/dryer combo could be. I've only had to do laundry a few times, but each time has been a pain in the Royal Ascot. The device features no discernible "on" button, and none of the other buttons and dials (there are 12 "controls" in all) is adequately labeled. Thus, I reached for ye olde instruction manual for guidance.
According to page 18 (yep, it takes a considerable while for the manual's plot to thicken), in order to start the washing machine, one must first “make sure plumbing and electrical installations have been done correctly” (thanks for the tip, Sherlock) and, after a few other obvious statements, continues thusly:
At this stage, turn the start, stop and temperature dial <> until the <> symbol (cold wash) or the wash temperature coincides with the reference pointer in the display window. The operating indicator light <
As Nietzsche so smarmily put it, "What don't kill ya, makes ya stronger." At least, that's the lesson I'm taking from these adventures with ye olde instruction manual-on-washing. Perhaps I've discovered why the British have, for centuries, had such a toehold on the rest of the world: even in the most mundane of circumstances, they must rise to a challenge, solve a conundrum, and carry on as best they can. I can feel my upper lip stiffening as I write these words.
1 comment:
Fortunately, the machine in our permanent flat is much more user-friendy and intuitively designed.
Thanks,
Chris
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