Ok this is awkward. I'm in the laundry room at the Marriott hotel in San Francisco (I was going to put all my clothes through the laundry service but the prices were ridiculous even if the company is paying).

Its a really small laundry room. About the size of an alcatraz jail cell (more on that later as I went to alcatraz today). There is one washer and one drier. Each run for 30min. When I came back 35 min later I found that someone had taken my clothes out of the machine. That's cool I don't mind that. It just meant when I put my clothes in the drier I knew that I better be on time to collect them as someone will be waiting right behind me.

So... I'm now standing in this little room with the person who took my clothes out before. Her washing has finished but my drier has not. She doesn't look like a happy camper at all. Leaning against the wall with arms crossed. There's massive tension in the air. I think she wants me to stop my cycle early so she can put hers in. But I'm not budging. I paid my 2 bucks for my clothes to be dry and they're going to be dry dammit!

She says curtly,

"How long has it been in there?

I try to be casual...

"About 35 min but the sign on the wall says drying 30 min, so it should be done any second".

"The sign's wrong it takes 45 min" she replies.

Who does this lady think she is? I'm not falling for your mind games. I take a deep breath.

"I guess it has 10 more min then".

KNOCK KNOCK - oh what now? Her husband come in. Don't think THAT will pressure me Ms Grumpy Old Lady.

There are 3 of us in this little room now. This room isn't big enough for the 3 of us.

Silence.

The clock's ticking. I'm typing pretty furiously on my BlackBerry right now. What else can I do?

Finally. The machine coughs and splutters and dies down.

Pause. Save. Put BB down and collect clothes...

"All yours", I say, and run out the room.

Dear Marriott,

Please build a bigger laundry.

Yours sincerely,

Guest in Room 937