[It becomes obvious practically immediately that the staff in the resort aren't going to help with more than the basic room cleaning, ah, as soon as Lorenz tries to ask one of them and they brush him off completely. That is a problem for one incredibly pressing reason: it's rude! The gall of these people to ignore him so blatantly! He is a nobleman accustomed to a full household of staff who are at least responsive, so to be ignored is so- so—!
Well, he might have called a staff member an impertinent chestnut with an unflattering haircut, which probably didn't help his case.
The other, less pressing but still important problem, is he doesn't know how to do laundry. At all, as it were, even during the war there had been other people handling all of that kind of thing - but when someone does impatiently point him to the communal laundry room, he doesn't even know what he's seeing. What are these boxes? Why does one of them sound like it's wet inside?
Today, anyone passing down this hall might hear the unmistakable sound of a spectre warbling its despair like one can hear all over the basement - except that it's Lorenz, actually, despairing at a washing machine. His life is over. He has to buy new clothes every time he needs to change, that's it, this machine is a demon...
After a minute of despair he sticks his head into the hall to flag someone down. Hi, hello, please take pity—]
You there! How do you do? I am in dire need of- [a glance over his shoulder] -another pair of hands. If you would spare me a moment of your time, lest I succumb to depravity, I would be in your debt. You have my word, and my word is wrought in iron!
[His tragedy, for the record, is he barely understood how to use the washer and now his sad lump of clothes is... a little too wet, still? It's bad. He mixed whites with purples too but that's the next tragedy.]
the goofiest meet cute ever written
Well, he might have called a staff member an impertinent chestnut with an unflattering haircut, which probably didn't help his case.
The other, less pressing but still important problem, is he doesn't know how to do laundry. At all, as it were, even during the war there had been other people handling all of that kind of thing - but when someone does impatiently point him to the communal laundry room, he doesn't even know what he's seeing. What are these boxes? Why does one of them sound like it's wet inside?
Today, anyone passing down this hall might hear the unmistakable sound of a spectre warbling its despair like one can hear all over the basement - except that it's Lorenz, actually, despairing at a washing machine. His life is over. He has to buy new clothes every time he needs to change, that's it, this machine is a demon...
After a minute of despair he sticks his head into the hall to flag someone down. Hi, hello, please take pity—]
You there! How do you do? I am in dire need of- [a glance over his shoulder] -another pair of hands. If you would spare me a moment of your time, lest I succumb to depravity, I would be in your debt. You have my word, and my word is wrought in iron!
[His tragedy, for the record, is he barely understood how to use the washer and now his sad lump of clothes is... a little too wet, still? It's bad. He mixed whites with purples too but that's the next tragedy.]