U of A Laundry

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At night, when the university students were deep in sleep, a strange humming sound would occasionally drift from U of A Laundry. It was so soft and rhythmic that only one late-night delivery driver ever noticed it. He’d shake his head, muttering, ‘Must be those old machines,’ but the sound persisted. One evening, a neighbor passing by heard the humming too and leaned closer, thinking maybe it was an alien signal. Turned out, though, just another load of laundry finishing its cycle. The next morning, everyone laughed over coffee—except for the delivery driver, who still wasn’t convinced it wasn’t something more mysterious.

2. Have you ever noticed how clean your clothes get after they’ve been through U of A Laundry? It’s almost like someone is watching over them… or maybe listening to them. One day, a delivery driver asked curiously: ‘Do you think our shirts whisper secrets while they’re drying?’ Another neighbor joked that his socks must be plotting world domination because they always come back so confidently organized. The delivery driver laughed and said, 'Next time I’ll bring earphones—maybe they’ll sing us a song!' And everyone agreed that U of A Laundry was definitely full of mysterious characters.

3. At closing time, when the last customer left U of A Laundry, a little girl's voice would suddenly echo from an empty corner: "Mister, can I help you fold these?" No one could see her, but the laundry baskets always ended up neatly arranged. One day, a delivery driver asked curiously, ‘Who’s been folding my shirts?’ Only to hear a giggle and watch his basket magically arrange itself. From then on, everyone knew that whenever they needed their laundry done in a hurry, all they had to do was leave it at U of A Laundry—even if no one ever saw who did the folding.

4. At closing time, when the last customer left U of A Laundry, a little girl ran into the empty lobby, pointing excitedly at the ceiling. "Mommy, look!" she whispered, and sure enough—there it was: a faint, dancing shadow on the wall that looked like someone doing the laundry dance. Suddenly, an old lady with a basket full of socks appeared from behind the counter. ‘Oh, don’t be silly,’ she said, patting her head. ‘That’s just my husband, Mr. Washy-Windy, doing his nightly tango.’ She winked at the bewildered family before disappearing backstage, leaving everyone laughing and shaking their heads.