I feel like living in this building is a Joseph McCarthy time capsule: last night after the Fed Ex cartons had departed, my neighbor Steve, who's paranoid as Jaymie about a bedbug infestation, asked me last night if I'd been using the laundry in the basement. Maria on the fourth floor had told him there were bedbugs in the washers.
So, this morning, I ran wash cycles of heavy bleach and detergent with no clothes through both washers before doing my laundry. I think it's all crap, but I also am concerned about what appears to be a bedbug witch hunt.
I just spoke to a friend, an opera singer in a town outside Manhattan, who just went through a lice scare with her daughter: she said it was a complete madhouse with children ostracized and madness of neighbors. Oy!