Collars n' Starch

So I'm sitting in a hotel room in an unfamiliar city, far far away from friends and family. I have one of those half-day long interviews tomorrow, which is exhausting, but hey, free lunch. I was getting my wardrobe ready for tomorrow, and I realized the cleaner had pressed and starched a series of wrinkles into the collar of one of my shirts. I can't wear it. It's hideous!

My hotel comes complete with iron and board, but I can't get the wrinkles out. I think I'm going to have to wash it again, which sucks, because I'm going to have to make my one good shirt last all week, here's hoping I don't spill crap all over myself at lunch tomorrow.