What Makes My Socks So Stiff?

It's not what you think . . . dirty minds.
In most German wohnungs (apartments) there is a teeny tiny washing machine machine in the bathroom.
German washing machines are located in the bathroom, because in centuries-old buildings there probably hasn't been indoor plumbing until the 20th century. By routing water and sewer lines to one room, indoor water usage could be centrally and economically managed. This in turn, is how the term "Water Closet" came to fruition. Europeans regard water closets as "wet rooms" as opposed to the more specific "bath room", "toilet", or "wash room."
Upon being confronted with my teeny tiny washing machine (a front-load washer that fits neatly under the counter . . . like a college refrigerator), I compared it to the air-craft-carrier-ready washer in my laundry room at home (a top-load Kenmore large enough to wash several dogs at once and not get their ears wet - don't ask me how I know this) . . . (and P.S. don't try this at home kids, unless you want the folks from PETA to raid your booty - don't ask me how I know this either. But I digress . . .). I was skeptical, as I often find in some things, size does matter.
As I'm sure you know, front-load washers require less water (because they do not fill up like aquariums) and less electricity (because they use the force of gravity to agitate the laundry. (Here, I'm trying to think of a joke that starts out: How do you know your laundry is agitated? - - but I got nothin'. But I digress . . .) Admirable enough . . . but it seemed that I would have to wash every item by itself over the course of two weeks. My colleagues (the guinea pigs who crashed tested the corporate apartment before me) assured me, that if I gently place my separates in the teeny tiny itsy bitsy washer, and add the teeny tiny itsy bitsy laundry detergent . . . everything would sort itself out.
This I did. First, colors in. 40 minutes later I have a pile of wet clothes knitted into a macrame plant hanger. And wait, there's more. There's no teeny tiny itsy bitsy dryer. What the hey?!
I notice that in the living room, there is a large wire rack resembling a TV antenae. It is in fact a laundry rack. Living in Florida (under its superlative humidity), nothing like this laundry rack would ever work. In fact, the clothes - though saturated - might in fact get wetter under the right circumstances. But Berlin is dry. It's summertime and the Fernsehen is blowing across the wheatfields of Brandenbourg . . . so I decorated the laundry tree in the living room with my holiday undies, shirts and socks. I sang my national laundry day holiday songs and threw a Yule sock on the laundry fire (no, not really. For more information, see "Sarcasm.") I put the whites in the teeny tiny itsy bitsy washer and went to bed.
In the morning, when I awoke I went to check on the laundry. Sure enough the colored clothes were dry enough to move and replace with the white laundry. The issue: the clothese were stiff. I leaned them up against the wall like old waffles. If I'd washed some pants, I could have made a little laundry person to go to breakfast with!
I guess there are worse things in life than stiff laundry . . . and I beg the user community to restrain themselves when adding the obligatory comments on "stiffness." This site is rated PG!! . . .
The end result of my analysis, is that I will be a billionaire the day I introduce ice-cubes to Italy, lukewarm water to the people of the United Kingdom, and clothes dryers to Germany.
On the downside, I would simultaneously expose the Germans to Snuggles the Dryer Bear. It is my sworn enemy, and I cannot abide it until it has been subjected to a serious prolonged regimen of speach therapy!!!!
That would surely put a Bounce in my step!!