The French Laundry

Out of the apartment around lunch time today. One stop at the patisserie for deux jambon sandwich and off to search for a place to wash clothes.
First try: intimidating man sitting, sunken into the seat next to what looks like the pay machine, which we are attempting to decipher through the half open door. Nothing looks remotely familiar, we can't fully read what's on the machine nor do we understand it (at all really), and the intimidating man is just too intimidating.
The consensus, keep looking.
Down another unfamiliar street - exciting - and into the unknown.
Ah, there on the other side of the street. Is it? Yes? Yes!
Anyone guarding the washer? We wouldn't want someone to see us looking ridiculous trying to interpret what will obviously turn out to be a very efficient and easy system - and does and is.
D'accord.
About 9 euro later (this being the most expensive load of laundry we've ever done it's like we've just ordered something off the French Laundry menu itself) we have successfully completed one large load of laundry, purchased some tasty Yazoo(chocolate milk), got groceries and made friends with the Monsieur next door who runs the adjoining dry cleaners.
Shall we be so bold as to have some wine now? I think the answer is, Oui!