Great places to render clean your soiled undergarments, as explained in the node entitled "laundromat."
The twenty-four-hour variety of laundromat are a completely different breed, however. The desire to wash clothing at odd hours of the night, i.e. anywhere from midnight to ten am, as an estimate, does not strike many people, especially those with suitable machines at their places of residence. Insomniacs, coffee kids, and general oddballs, just to name a few, are the types of hacks you might find patronizing an establishment like this. God knows a normal person would rather be asleep at four am than waiting for a noisy old window-front dryer to finish its load.
In my hometown, there was only one such laundromat, and I made good use of it. Many a restless and lonesome night was spent in the dim glow of fluorescent light fixtures and neon from the sign above the front door. Packs of cigarettes quickly depleted and ended up empty and crumpled in what seemed like only minutes. Street Fighter 2: Champion Edition devoured a chunk of my already meager paychecks, even though I never became too proficient at the game. Books were pored over and through at an almost alarming rate: for example, the entire six-part Dune series, all written by Frank Herbert, was finished in just short of one month. A portable compact-disc player destroyed AA-size batteries like they were going out of style so that I could have a soundtrack to my desolation... bands such as Modest Mouse, Low, and Belle and Sebastian only served to make me feel more detached, but they were always perfect for the occasion. Always half-asleep in the cash office, if not completely dozed off, the overnight worker and part-owner painted a wonderful picture of job satisfaction. Other humans would venture in and out of the place throughout the night, though not many, but it was not hard to spot those who had similar agendas to mine. They never remained, however. Regulars would come and go. Philisophical debates raged with some, while small talk and "How about this weather?" dominated the topics with others. But no one stayed as long as I. It was a terrible shame when financial situations caused my favorite haunt to close down once and for all...
I've moved away from my parents' domicile and into my own, from the suburbs to the heart of the big city. Ever since I came to live here, I've been searching for another twenty-four-hour laundromat to call home. My insomnia has not abated. I sleep, but not on a normal schedule. Home isn't a place where I feel creative, inspired, etc., which is a terrible shame. A cherished memory, but one I miss dearly.