Applying Communal Laundry Etiquette To Life In General

From living on the Eastside of Milwaukee to the condo hell of South Beach, I've had my share of abysmal communal laundry room experiences.  There is a certain etiquette that everyone needs to follow, otherwise we have social-appliance anarchy.  Lets face it, some of us have a finite window of opportunity to get our stinky garments clean.  Laundry etiquette dictates that upon completion of the wash cycle, the owner of said civvies will be prompt in taking them out of the washer, moving them to the dryer and again returning once their paid time has expired to retrieve their drapery and vacate the machine for the next poor soul in line.  Also, show some respect and clean the lint trap!  It's bad enough thinking about all the neighborhood pubes that have danced with my sheets, the least you can do is scoop out your own fuzzy fragments.  By the way, I'm being gracious and giving you 10 minutes to return promptly for your washed wardrobe, or else.  It's the 10 minute rule.

I first learned of the 10 minute rule while living in NYC.  It seems everybody lives in peaceful co-existence based on this law of the laundromat land.  If your shit is done and you aren't around in 10 minutes, your shit is going on top of the next washer machine, a vacant chair, or if the person is really nice...placed in an empty dryer.  I never went the placing-in-a-vacant-dryer route for strangers.  If anything, I've wanted to whip my dick out and squirt some piss in your clean garments for not being courteous and prompt with your washing skills.  You should be ashamed of yourself.  It's called TARDiness for a reason, you waste of space.

I've begun to believe that this common courtesy should be applied to life in general, especially when using public property.  Take the other day at the park, for example.

There are four children swings.  Two are for the older cretins and the other two are especially designed for toddlers not to fly out of.  Some nanny had all four swings occupied with her brats of all ages.  Cellphone held to her head and yakking, she would walk to two of them, push lamely with her one available hand and then go to the next pair, alternating feeble shoves so the kids barely moved, more interested in her wireless chatter.  At one point, she was so into her conversation that two of the youngest kids sat there stagnant and confused in the blazing sun.  They sat like this for 10 minutes while Nanny hung up and began to text some guy she was calling Papi, "LMFAO", no doubt.

I need one swing for my daughter.  Just like the 10 minute laundry rule, I should be able to remove the nanny's property and use the public swing while not in use.  I believe it is in my right to just take the toddler out of the swing and lay him in the wood-chips (in the shade of course, I'm not some inhumane brute).  If he's still squirming there and unclaimed when I'm done, I'll be a good soul and put the poor lad back in the safety of the swing.  I won't even attempt to interrupt his guardian's telephone call.