You may as well give up then

I went to the Wäscherei to catch up on some laundry. The place had self-serve facilities open until eleven, and full-serve open until eight. At halb neun (half past eight), while I was putting my stuff in, a man came running in. He asked me where the full-serve staff person was. My pants! She has my pants.

I told him she'd gone. This seemed to represent the end of the world as he knew it. I suggested he come back in the morning.

But I have no wife! Who will iron my pants?