Singer's Dry Cleaning & Laundry

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. A little girl walked into Singer’s Dry Cleaning one day, her eyes wide with wonder as she pointed at something on the counter. ‘Mama,’ she whispered, ‘what’s that funny smell?’ The old lady behind the counter smiled gently and replied, 'Honey, that's just the scent of our special cleaner—we use it to make clothes soft and fresh.' The little girl nodded thoughtfully, then turned to her mom and asked, 'Can I smell it too?' And so began a new family tradition: every time they dropped off laundry, they’d stop by for a sniff.

2. A delivery driver arrived at Singer’s Dry Cleaning early one morning, fumbling with a package. Suddenly, he noticed an old man standing in front of the shop, muttering something under his breath and pointing at the sign. The old man was so absorbed that he didn’t notice when another delivery driver walked up behind him. ‘What are you doing?’ asked the newcomer. The old man turned around, startled, and replied, ‘Just making sure they don’t forget to clean my shirt!’ They both laughed, and the first driver left, whistling a tune, thinking it was just another quirky neighbor.

3. A neighbor dropped by Singer’s Dry Cleaning one afternoon, muttering under his breath as he waited for his shirts. ‘Why does it always take them so long?’ he asked aloud, not realizing the dry cleaner had just overheard him. The owner, Mr. Singer, who was busy with another customer, suddenly popped out from behind the counter and said, ‘Sir, I can assure you that your shirts are in perfect condition—just like mine!’ And indeed, he was wearing a shirt that looked like it had been cleaned decades ago. The neighbor burst into laughter, realizing his mistake, while Mr. Singer went back to work, humming an old tune.

4. At Singer’s Dry Cleaning, a regular muttered to himself as he picked up his shirts: ‘I swear, every time I come here, my clothes look like they’ve been through a wormhole.’ A delivery driver once joked, ‘I must drive past some kind of laundromatic black hole on the way here.’ And then, whispering, added, ‘But who am I to question the mysteries of Singer’s?’