3: Fifty Shades Turned On
I unlatch the large front-loader's thick glass door, peering into the cavernous metal drum to discover its hard limits. Oh my. It’s so much bigger than I’ve been used to. Wide-eyed I probe the shiny stainless steel, polished and pristine, the untarnished heart of the mechanism, with inquisitive fingers. This is where the hydrating process happens - a harsh experience, tempered only slightly by the water-softening device clamped firmly to the inlet pipe. Pulsing injections of fluid from pre-wash through to final rise. I'm so ready for this. Bending over I insert the colour-sorted load. Requisite liquid agents are already in place, the program pre-selected. Gently I close the door and press the button allowing the cycle to begin.
Immediately I hear a responsive hiss from the rising main. I hope that the hose will hold out. Slightly discoloured, with a greenish tinge towards the grey object of my affection, but nevertheless maintaining a strong connection. Good. I don’t want to have to discard such an honest and faithful friend. Hose and I go back a long way. And as much as I like the hardware shop, I have no wish to revisit it now.
The initial churn of the pump is followed by a tentative turn of the innards. My own muscles clench in anticipation. I gasp. That’s... nice. Right from the start Fifty Shades is a smooth operator. Right now he is whispering to me at loin level. Words about what a dirty girl I've been this week...
Suddenly I hear the sound of sluicing, as hard water hits container confines. The detergent is being deployed. Holy wow! Wave upon wave surges round the dispenser tray, searching out every nook and cranny, brooking no opposition, taking no prisoners. All the liquid plunges down, there, into the drum, which has become a frenzied foaming cauldron. Heat builds quickly thanks to Fifty’s un-scaled element. Hmmm. I must not forget to dose regularly with Calgon to keep it thus. Efficiency is an admirable characteristic. Such small economies can help save the world. I suppose it would be cool to make constant use of Eco settings... but Holy hell sometimes a woman wants hot action on her sheets and towels!
So now comes subjection to repetitious agitation, interspersed with multiple cold rinses. It may sound sadistic torture to you, but the contents of the cylindrical cavity have no cause for complaint. The aim is to please, the cycle selected for maximum satisfaction, from pre-wash through personalised temperature regulation, crease control to final spin speed. Those previously discarded clothes will emerge conditioned, sweetly scented, still stunned and giddy from a fast and furious fling. A tip from the handbook - even mid-program a quick manual twist of the knob can be employed to activate time saving. That’s definitely worth remembering.
The metal chamber ceases to turn. The pump chugs with one last effort at expulsion. After a heartbeat of pure silence the portal unlocks with a clearly audible click. I sigh with satisfaction. Most of the contents are lying inert, slumped in front of the door, stunned into total submission by the skilled expertise of my Fifty Shades, master of my laundry universe. Responsive. Ever-ready. Always and all ways. Barring power outages obviously. I bite my lip. I am in awe.
Now I take over, smoothing out individual kinks and entanglements. Then I gleefully subject all to suspension on the taut rope, pinching their extremities with clothespins, demonstrating who is in control around here. Hang them all out to dry in orderly fashion is my motto. I disapprove of indiscriminate tumbling. I frown, dismissing the unwelcome intrusion from my subconscious that maybe Fifty Shades would prefer a partner model made to perform that very function. No! My inner domestic goddess deals me a smart smack to snap me out of this line of thought, and demands that I stay true to my low-tech drying techniques.
Meanwhile Fifty Shades slumbers with the door slightly ajar, taking a well-earned rest. I tilt my head to one side. Perfection even in total repose. We’re so good together. Frustrating laundry build-up is a problem of the past. Gently I run a soft towel around the inner door rim, skimming the rubber flange. I cannot resist the urge to delve deeper, searching with exploratory digits for the inevitable stray sock. Oh! There it is. I little lump almost out of reach on the interior wall of the stainless steel drum. I groan. Released, it falls limp into my hand. I peg it up beside its partner. Another good job well done. Grey days are still good drying days thanks to my Fifty’s super-efficient centrifugal action.
So this is it then. The happy ever after moment. Promise fulfilled by the princely machine of my dreams, delivered and signed for, price well within budget. Thus concludes the trilogy. Cut to closing sunny scene featuring brightly coloured clothing blowing gently in a breeze, having been super-washed and spun, hard, by my strong steadfast Fifty Shades. It’s a fine view. My favourite. The only blip on the horizon is the special baby and toddler program position. Still, those of us with occasionally sensitive skin may yet be glad of the automatic inclusion of extra rinses from time to time, to ensure removal of residual irritants. And for those who scoff at such seemingly bland future domestic bliss - don’t forget that Dark Care is also an option. An option that will be put to good use at least once a week...
Update! Film rights available. I’m thinking my economic recession bought Fifty Shades, being but a humble Beko, should be played by a more expensive Italian model in the movie. Candy for eye candy. Zanussi for Italian branding with the confidence of a cool Swedish company behind it. Casting suggestions welcome. :-))
Immediately I hear a responsive hiss from the rising main. I hope that the hose will hold out. Slightly discoloured, with a greenish tinge towards the grey object of my affection, but nevertheless maintaining a strong connection. Good. I don’t want to have to discard such an honest and faithful friend. Hose and I go back a long way. And as much as I like the hardware shop, I have no wish to revisit it now.
The initial churn of the pump is followed by a tentative turn of the innards. My own muscles clench in anticipation. I gasp. That’s... nice. Right from the start Fifty Shades is a smooth operator. Right now he is whispering to me at loin level. Words about what a dirty girl I've been this week...
Suddenly I hear the sound of sluicing, as hard water hits container confines. The detergent is being deployed. Holy wow! Wave upon wave surges round the dispenser tray, searching out every nook and cranny, brooking no opposition, taking no prisoners. All the liquid plunges down, there, into the drum, which has become a frenzied foaming cauldron. Heat builds quickly thanks to Fifty’s un-scaled element. Hmmm. I must not forget to dose regularly with Calgon to keep it thus. Efficiency is an admirable characteristic. Such small economies can help save the world. I suppose it would be cool to make constant use of Eco settings... but Holy hell sometimes a woman wants hot action on her sheets and towels!
So now comes subjection to repetitious agitation, interspersed with multiple cold rinses. It may sound sadistic torture to you, but the contents of the cylindrical cavity have no cause for complaint. The aim is to please, the cycle selected for maximum satisfaction, from pre-wash through personalised temperature regulation, crease control to final spin speed. Those previously discarded clothes will emerge conditioned, sweetly scented, still stunned and giddy from a fast and furious fling. A tip from the handbook - even mid-program a quick manual twist of the knob can be employed to activate time saving. That’s definitely worth remembering.
The metal chamber ceases to turn. The pump chugs with one last effort at expulsion. After a heartbeat of pure silence the portal unlocks with a clearly audible click. I sigh with satisfaction. Most of the contents are lying inert, slumped in front of the door, stunned into total submission by the skilled expertise of my Fifty Shades, master of my laundry universe. Responsive. Ever-ready. Always and all ways. Barring power outages obviously. I bite my lip. I am in awe.
Now I take over, smoothing out individual kinks and entanglements. Then I gleefully subject all to suspension on the taut rope, pinching their extremities with clothespins, demonstrating who is in control around here. Hang them all out to dry in orderly fashion is my motto. I disapprove of indiscriminate tumbling. I frown, dismissing the unwelcome intrusion from my subconscious that maybe Fifty Shades would prefer a partner model made to perform that very function. No! My inner domestic goddess deals me a smart smack to snap me out of this line of thought, and demands that I stay true to my low-tech drying techniques.
Meanwhile Fifty Shades slumbers with the door slightly ajar, taking a well-earned rest. I tilt my head to one side. Perfection even in total repose. We’re so good together. Frustrating laundry build-up is a problem of the past. Gently I run a soft towel around the inner door rim, skimming the rubber flange. I cannot resist the urge to delve deeper, searching with exploratory digits for the inevitable stray sock. Oh! There it is. I little lump almost out of reach on the interior wall of the stainless steel drum. I groan. Released, it falls limp into my hand. I peg it up beside its partner. Another good job well done. Grey days are still good drying days thanks to my Fifty’s super-efficient centrifugal action.
So this is it then. The happy ever after moment. Promise fulfilled by the princely machine of my dreams, delivered and signed for, price well within budget. Thus concludes the trilogy. Cut to closing sunny scene featuring brightly coloured clothing blowing gently in a breeze, having been super-washed and spun, hard, by my strong steadfast Fifty Shades. It’s a fine view. My favourite. The only blip on the horizon is the special baby and toddler program position. Still, those of us with occasionally sensitive skin may yet be glad of the automatic inclusion of extra rinses from time to time, to ensure removal of residual irritants. And for those who scoff at such seemingly bland future domestic bliss - don’t forget that Dark Care is also an option. An option that will be put to good use at least once a week...
Update! Film rights available. I’m thinking my economic recession bought Fifty Shades, being but a humble Beko, should be played by a more expensive Italian model in the movie. Candy for eye candy. Zanussi for Italian branding with the confidence of a cool Swedish company behind it. Casting suggestions welcome. :-))