I Did My Wash at NYC's Worst Laundromat!
Plus! Meet the owner of the city's top laundry spot!! Awesome laundromat signs!!!
Hello everyone,
Welcome to Issue #174 of CAFÉ ANNE!
So last week, I wrote about how reader Jamie D. in Brooklyn was traveling in Europe when she spotted a real-life Café Anne in Lyon, France.
Jamie did not venture in, and has since returned to Brooklyn, so I asked if I had any subscribers in Lyon who could swing by and check it out. I soon received an email from Brittany J. in France: “Hello! I am a loyal CAFÉ ANNE reader in Lyon right now—would be happy to check out Café Anne for you tomorrow and report back!”
Alas, a few days later, she issued the following update: “Sad news—Café Anne is closed (I believe for summer holidays). I went both days and the curtains were fully drawn, which a French friend says is a sign that they are getting some extended R&R. Sad! It looked amazing.”
Thank you for trying Brittany! My take-away: we should ALL be closed for an extended summer holiday, as they do in Europe. Too much hustling happening here.
In other news, I did a little Q&A with Eleanor Anstruther for her The Literary Obsessive newsletter. Learn why I stopped using AI art!
And finally, huge NYC-subway-fare-rising-to-$3-in-January shoutouts to new paid subscribers Reshma K., Paul D., Martin S. and Jenna L. That’s enough $$$ to take 69 rides before the fare hike!
I am very excited for this week’s issue, of course. We’ve an interview with the owner of NYC’s top laundromat—and a visit to the city’s worst! Please enjoy.
Regards!
Anne
The following are advertisements from CAFÉ ANNE sponsors.
WHAT IS THE WEEKLY SLOP?
The Weekly Slop is a free newsletter about the slow-motion degradation of everything that we love and hold dear. I also cover the news. I offer you the opportunity to evade social media and instead streamline what is happening, while trying to make sense of everything. It would be an honor to travel these slop-infested waters with you!
ARE YOU LAUGHING ENOUGH?
Probably not. Good thing there's Chortle. We send funny, original writing from a rotating cast of writers to your inbox every weekday morning. Perfect for fans of McSweeney's, Shouts & Murmurs... and Anne Kadet! Click here to read our most popular post of the summer, "Am I the Asshole: Toddler Edition."
Interested in advertising your product/service or promoting your own newsletter in the next issue of CAFÉ ANNE? Click here for details.
Meet the Man Behind NYC’s Top Laundromat!
I love laundromats, and I love coffee. So of course I was delighted when an old laundromat reopened in my neighborhood this spring—with an espresso bar! I was even more intrigued when I stopped by the new Laundry & Latte to get a cappuccino. JR, the owner, came by my table to introduce himself. He lives two blocks away, he told me, but is originally from France. Huh!
And then last week, I was researching the city's top-rated laundromats (as one does), and guess which turned out to have the highest rating on Google? That's right! Laundry & Latte already had 37 user reviews, and every single one gave it a five-star rating. “Completely changed the way I feel about doing laundry!" was a typical comment.
Huh again! Who was this French guy who had seemingly created the ideal NYC laundromat?
Two days later, I was touring the laundromat with JR—a curly-haired fellow with ready smile. We started at the lounge area in front of the espresso bar, with its stiff wood banquette, striped pillows and tiny tables. "It's comfortable, but not too much," he said, in his French accent. "My wish is that instead of working, people talk to each other."
A foliage jungle loomed over the lounge. "You win the award for laundromat with the most plants," I declared.
French pop music played in the background while Santiago, the barista, foamed milk for a latte. The café offers traditional French pastries such as almond croissants and pain au chocolate—baked in Bushwick, of course. JR is also collaborating with a Korean detergent maker to create a laundry-themed drink.
"Could it have a shot of laundry detergent in it?" I asked.
"No, but maybe something related to the scent," said JR.
While laundry customers get a 50% discount on menu items, only 20% of the laundry crowd is ordering coffee so far. Another 60% of the customers, JR said, come just for coffee and ignore the laundry. He sells about 300 coffees and 50-100 pastries a week.
We next toured the laundry area. When JR bought the business, the machines still ran on quarters. He added an electronic payment system but kept the prices the same as under the previous owner: $4 for a small-load wash and 25 cents for a five-minute dryer spin.
According to an industry expert I've interviewed in the past, a NYC laundry owner can expect to earn about $65,000 on sales of $250,000 off a small shop. JR says he has yet to break even, but is happy to have created a place where people want to hang out—even if they're not doing laundry.
"And the goal is to continue to grow and look for the next Laundry & Latte, and then the next one," he said. “I want to expand first in New York, and then potentially around the country, and maybe international."
"An international laundromat! I love that!" I said. "I'm so curious what your background was before this."
Santiago made me a cappuccino and we sat down to talk.
JR, who is 44 (and whose full name is Jean-Roch Dumas)—grew up in Saint-Ybard, a village of 800 in central France. His dad was in the animal feed business. "I wanted to recreate this environment of a little village because that's how I grew up," he said. "My father was the mayor of the village. Everyone knew each other.”
His parents had different ideas. They sent him to a top university in Paris. After graduating, he got a consulting job with Deloitte, the giant international accounting firm. Ten years later, the company sent him to New York. "That was 13 years ago," he said. "And it was, you know, 'I made it!'"
He got a fancy title: "Managing Director—Global Strategy and Digital," and made a lot of money, and was very happy. Until he wasn't.
"After a few years, I kind of asked myself, 'What actually are you doing? What does it mean?'" he said. "I provided advice to companies, I made slide decks, but nothing tangible."
And his social circle consisted entirely of coworkers, "Because you work long hours,” he said. “You go restaurants with these people, and you see them on the weekend.”
But he stayed on. "It's really difficult to leave because the salary is great, and every year you have a promotion,” he said. “Every year I said, 'Okay, one more year.'"
Things improved when JR moved to my neighborhood in 2022. "I lived in Tribeca, Financial District, Williamsburg, back to Tribeca—and I couldn't find a place where I feel great, and at home, and in a quiet space,” he said. “I was thinking I'm going to go back to Paris. And then Brooklyn Heights happened and changed my perspective on New York.”
But he was so busy working he never met his new neighbors. "And the lack of purpose, it's heavy on you," he said. "Two years ago, I really took a step back and started to think, 'What actually do I want to do? What I want to be known for at the end?’”
When a man starts searching for answers, there's no telling what path he will take. Some choose altruism, or the spiritual life. For JR, the answer was laundry.
This wasn't immediately obvious. He only knew he wanted to create something tangible. He considered launching a French patisserie, "Or a sandwich shop, where I would import products from my region," he says.
But his inner accountant said no—it’d be too hard to make money. “I needed to find something a bit old-school, where I could bring a little shake-it-up,” he said.
It was his girlfriend who suggested the laundry business. JR had never even been to a laundromat, but grew interested after visiting several around town. Many are run down, he said, because they’re owned by old folks who don't care to replace a $10,000 washing machine, for example: "They're five years from retirement. At this stage of your life, it's not worth it.”
And thus began his laundromat odyssey. JR visited more than 100 around the city, searching for a business to buy. There are laundromat brokerages, of course, but nothing on the market looked suitable. He started approaching owners directly, offering to buy them out.
In the end, he decided on the laundromat around the corner from his home—the Heights Drop-Off Center and Laundromat, owned by a Yemeni family since the 1990s. It was busy, the machines were in good shape and the space in the front would be perfect for an espresso bar.
The owner did not want to sell. When they made a deal last November, after three months of talks, JR finally quit his Deloitte job. "I think in the end, I overpaid," he said. "I think he made a good deal, but I probably made a good deal too. It's the beginning. So I don't make money—but it's not the priority, right? I mean, the priority was first to make the place I wanted."
"Is this the place you wanted?" I asked, taking in the spinning machines and customers chatting over iced coffee.
"Yes, of course!" said JR, in the way that French people do when you've asked a ridiculous question.
People are already coming from Lower Manhattan to do laundry here, he said. "Laundry is so annoying for most people. Anything that can make the two hours a bit cool and enjoyable—you take it!"
Before I left, I told JR my plan for the afternoon: "I'm going to the city's worst laundromat to do my wash!"
He was very enthusiastic. "Enjoy your worst laundromat!" he called as I headed out. "Don't bring expensive clothes!"
“As if I have any!” I replied…
Read about my worst laundromat adventure in the story that follows. But first, what would your ideal laundromat include? Leave a note in the comments!
I Did My Wash at the City’s Worst Laundromat!
Having visited New York City's top-rated laundromat, a lady can't help but wonder: How are things at the city's worst-rated laundromat? And what if I did my laundry there?
I set my sights on the Franklin Express Laundry Center in Crown Heights. While the average NYC laundromat earns a respectable four stars, this place clocked in at 2.2 on Google—and an abysmal 1.7 on Yelp. Of the 104 reviews, 77 gave it one star.
Stories abounded of card machines eating money, washers not washing, dryers not drying, and clothes ruined. Among the comments:
"It’s dirty, smells, and it’s not uncommon to see cockroaches. I hate it here so much."
"There is a woman who works during the day that is so rude and nasty, I almost left in tears one time."
"AVOID AVOID AVOID AVOID AVOID AVOID"
Reader, I almost chickened out. What if it destroyed my clothes? But then I reminded myself—serious journalism can require personal sacrifice. Perhaps this venture would finally win me that elusive Pulitzer Prize!
I found the laundromat on Franklin Avenue just north of Eastern Parkway. It didn't look especially scary:
Outside, it was a sunny, humid 95 degrees. Would the place have AC? I ventured in. It did seem a bit cooler—perhaps due to the wobbly ceiling fans spinning under the fluorescent lights. I looked around. The front featured a Pepsi machine, a grimy ATM dispensing $10 bills and a bench of plastic bucket seats.
Of the two big-screen TVs hanging on the wall, one was dark. The second displayed what looked like an AI-generated image of a pleasant café scene—perhaps suggesting what one might enjoy if one were in a different laundromat
"Your help in keeping this laundry neat and clean is greatly appreciated," read a sign on the wall. But it was not having the desired effect. The floor was dirty and littered with toilet paper, random socks and dryer sheets; every surface was scruffy, chipped or water-stained. The folding table was adorned with trash bags, empty soap bottles and a generous sprinkling of detergent powder.
I interviewed several customers to get their take. A city sanitation worker named Anthony said this was his second visit. "I had just one issue with the machine in the back, getting the card, but other than that, it's fine," he said. "Is it the cleanest? I wouldn't say that. It's not the tidiest. But the machines work."
Rachel, sporting a tie-dye bandana and Zohran pin, said that apart from the "weird people who come in sometimes," she thought Franklin Express was just fine—an upgrade from the washers in her last apartment building that stained her clothes.
Time to do the laundry! To my surprise, the attendant was helpful when I got confused loading my payment card. And while eight of the 30 washing machines were out of service, the one I selected—“Maytag 23”—worked fine.
In fact, as I perched on a step ladder with a Diet Pepsi (the other seats were taken), I started enjoying the shop’s charms. I appreciated the lack of TV or background music—just the hum of the dryers. And the absence of pretense was extremely relaxing. This is why I love laundromats!
On the other hand, I was hoping for more of a nightmare, if only for the sake of a good story. Yes, there were a few flies buzzing around, but where were the cockroaches?
I was loading my clothes into the dryer when I was approached by Tina, a hairdresser and Franklin Express regular.
"Don't put it on high!" she warned. "It scorched my sheets!"
We got to talking and I told her how Franklin Express had the lowest rating of any laundromat in the city.
"I can see why!" she said.
Tina had a lot to say. First, the fabric softener compartments are always clogged with old softener: "Take a good look!"
I checked a few machines and the compartments were indeed clogged with an ancient-looking blue goop.
"Every time you come in," she continued, "there's a fight, something crazy, clothes being burnt, clothes being lost, detergent not going down... And usually they have 'not working' on almost every machine. It really is a pretty s—tty laundromat.
I asked about the rude attendants who, according to several reviews, refuse to issue refunds when the machines don’t work.
"Every time I come here, there's somebody new," Tina shrugged. And she'd never seen the owner: "Everything here is a mystery. Everything! They should call it Mystery Laundromat, not Franklin Express."
I wanted to talk to the owner, of course. But the attendant, Zeyna, an immigrant from Senegal, said "Omar" was not around. He comes by a few times a week, she said—and owns several other laundromats around the city.
So then I told her I was writing about how Franklin Express is the worst-rated laundromat in town. I thought she might get defensive, but she broke into a wide smile. "Yes, I know!" she said. "The machines just stop spinning. All the time, there's something to fix. It's not easy!"
I asked about the supposedly rude service. Zeyna nodded. Her coworkers speak Arabic, but little English, she said, "So they are shy about talking."
I gave her my card and Zeyna promised to have Omar give me a ring. I'm dying to hear his story. Jean-Roch Dumas, who owns the city's top-rated laundromat (see story above) went to a fancy Paris university and spent 20 years as a high-flying management consultant. What was in Omar's past? My sense is that if you own the city's worst laundromat, perhaps things haven’t gone well for you in general. I'm hoping he will see this and give me a ring.
Meanwhile, I've been wearing my clothes freshly laundered at Franklin Express, and can testify that they are neither stained nor scorched. No Pulitzer yet—but I do have clean socks!
P.S.
When I peek into laundromats around the city, I often take photos of the signs inside. Someday I hope to make them into a beautiful coffee table book. Here, a small sample:
CAFÉ ANNE is published every Monday by Brooklyn journalist Anne Kadet. If you’re enjoying the newsletter, please consider supporting it with a paid subscription ($5 a month or $50 a year). I’ll send you a surprise in the mail!
Anne, clean socks be damned. You definitely deserve a Pulitzer.
As always, you win the prize for intrepid reporting. I was worried about your clothes as clothes being chewed or stained is one of my anxieties.
On to happier thoughts, my fav laundromat would have trivia contests with prizes (free drying, trendy reusable laundry bag) a wide demographic for people watching, small free paperback library, working water closets, once a month waffle party and an onsite tea leaf reader or grandma and grandpa advice giving duo on Tuesday afternoons.