Saturday, May 27, 2006


End of an era.

The old Laundromat in my street has closed. Besides being conveniently close to my flat, it unfortunately also served as a "shooting gallery" for the local junkies and this to an extent which makes it fair to say that probably more shots of heroin were processed there over the years than dirty laundry.


A young junkie enters, pulls out a needle and jams it straight into a vein, blood spurting while he fixes standing up, right in the middle of us locals doing our guy (I think he was actually hit by some of the spurting blood), is so enraged he calls the police from his cellular phone, the junkie was already on his way out and the police never showed up (standard procedure, despite the fact that one of Copenhagen's largest police stations is situated on Halmtorvet, two hundred meters from the laundry...)

Prostitute walking around in Laundromat half naked (bottomless) because she is washing the only clothes she has. When she tries on her blonde wig I'm politely asked how it looks (she still have no pants on..) "uh, er... you look great, luv!.."

Black guy asking me for help with the machines, he seems like a nice tourist guy so I give him some advice about looking out for the drugdealers and junkies..."ah, yeah, thanks a lot man..." when I return later he's standing outside the Laundromat smoking a big joint...


No podcast.
Not my people
Not my war

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