The laundry fight

I'm not a left-wing liberal, but neither do I consistently agree with the conservative right. In fact, I've sometimes been known to take issue with authority figures. It's not that I don't trust them, it's just that I follow a strict code of conduct: If you want my respect, you have to be 1) taller and 2) more intelligent than me. Otherwise, it's on a case-by-case basis. It's not that I've got a problem with taking advice or showing respect to my elders, it's just that, as a general rule, the bureaucratic I'm-your-superior rarely show concern for the little man (or the big man, if you're like me).

Case in point: BYU's Laundry Facilities. Remember a while back when, in order to play basketball in the Richard's Building, you needed a BYU-issue T-shirt? Or perhaps you remember forgetting clean socks for your early-morning workout and simply requesting an issue pair with your order? Sometime around April of this year, BYU decided to change this policy. Instead of supplying clothing and laundry services, they (the bureaucratically superior) agreed that it would be much cheaper to require everyone to provide their own clothing. So, with all the pomp and circumstance they could muster, they sold all the formerly-issue clothing and began to make everyone wear ridiculous plastic wrist bands. I fought it good and hard: "They're dangerous. When I'm dunking the basketball, I might catch my wrist on the rim and tear it off." I even tried just putting the silly rip-your-arm-hairs-out wristband on my shoe–they could see I was wearing it and I didn't find it too obnoxious. But it didn't fly.

It's been a long hard fight between BYU's laundry facilities and me. Apparently, they'll still wash your towel if you rent a locker from them, but that's about the extent of their service. Where did the money they saved go? Probably to the doubled number of students they've hired to send you from the gym for not wearing a wrist band. Perhaps a better solution could have been to ask each student to pay an extra dollar for tuition. I'm sure they'd be able to cover the washing of shirts for 20 grand a year, and we, the student population, would only need to give up one Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger every six months...

As I come down from my rant, I acknowledge that perhaps I need to be more understanding. A plastic wrist band isn't an incredible hassle, and I've felt the disgust when foreigners have come to use the pool at our apartment complex and routinely destroy the hot tub with a measure of bubble bath. Maybe the bureaucratic bigwigs really are there for our benefit, and, in spite of the occasional lack of help from some three-letter agencies (thanks, Cliff), they really do protect our rights.


Just don't get me started on parking enforcement. Class is in 20 minutes.