Roadside Laundry Tips:

Doug returned to our home one evening from a Roadside research trip to the Museum of Capital Punishment in Trenton, New Jersey. As he unpacked his video equipment, he described the museum's many fascinating and historical exhibits, including the inmate's severed-finger-in-a-jar, the prison tattoo equipment collection, and, the museum's Star of India, an old-style wooden electric chair that was used for 159 executions over a period of fifty years.

"I even had my picture taken in the electric chair," he announced happily, bending over to retrieve the test Polaroids from his backpack.

That's when I noticed the fist-sized reddish-brown smudges on the seat of his pants.

"What is that all over your butt?" I asked. Doug was covered in confusion, but my seasoned laundry intuition told me instantly that there, on the seat of his Gap khakis, was the concentrated terror sweat of 159 condemned men. These had to be organic stains, I reasoned, and I knew then that I could save the pants.

I directed Doug to stand on plastic garbage bags and remove his shoes as I donned a pair of Playtex rubber gloves (size-Med.). Then, as he held his arms away from his body, I carefully unzipped the pants and pulled them down, allowing the waist band to roll outward and the pants to turn inside out as he stepped out of them. I noted that the seat of his briefs had apparently escaped contamination. Next, I examined the stained area of the pants from the reverse side. There were no readily visible signs, probably because of the low moisture content of the stain.

But the low moisture issue was troubling me. How were these concentrated materials liberated from their strong chemical bonds to the wood and leather of the chair? Then, I remembered Doug babbling something about recent water damage to NJ's hot seat from a leak in the drop ceiling. So there WAS a moisture vector. Clearly, these stains were going to be a different proposition from the mummies-of-the-insane stains, which were mostly green mold and dry skin sloughings, and the Chinese Lizard Fans, another organic soup, but not as highly concentrated.

Still working over the plastic bags, I turned the pants right side out, spreading them out flat and face down. I went to the laundry area to review my product choices. Finally, I settled on the Spray'N'Wash Stain-Stick. The product's viscosity would allow me to apply a dense layer to each stained area while not precipitating any "bleed-through" to the inside of the pants. I applied the Stain-Stick generously, working it from a quarter of an inch outside each stained area inward to the center. Then, I let the product sit on the pants for a half hour before placing them, alone, in a washer set on cold wash/cold rinse the prevent the stains from "setting." I used Tide liquid. I disposed of the rubber gloves and plastic bags.

After the wash cycle was complete, I removed the pants and examined the affected area. Traces of the stains were still apparent in several places, so I quickly reapplied Stain-Stick to those areas and washed them again. The second wash removed all remaining traces, so the pants went into a warm dryer and were returned to society.

The car, however, had to be destroyed.

See also: Dillinger's Pants of Death