It's time to wash your vehicle when you pretend its an abandoned auto that somebody just left in your driveway. After winter wet weather followed by unseasonably hot dusty winds, my FORD Expedition is a mess!
I have to shrug myself into the seat to avoid mud-dirt-yuck contact at the entry point.
Unable to see out the windshield, I used the last of my washer fluid to clear a smeared half moon rinse across the glass. The filth factor has reached the intolerant point. Found in the unexpectedly clean beverage cup holder, is the receipt from the Expeditions last spa day, dated November 3, 2017. The wash cost almost $40. Today, I don't have $30- $40 for the car spa. I used the last of my dollars for a Band-Aid to cover one of the holes in my bleeding out stock account and a diet coke. I decided to turn to my friend VISA to pay for the wash, and as I drive up to the car wash, the line has 20 vehicles ahead of me and a 2 hour wait. No to that. That's as appealing as waiting for hours at the DMV. I don't recall this wash doing a particularly good job any way, and have had many unsavory encounters with the staff- and doubt that today will be different.
It's a warm, sunny day in Southern California. Unseasonably warm for mid February. While the rest of the country is suffering from below zero weather and blizzards, its short sleeves and flip flops here. Arriving home, I plant the Expedition on the front lawn and decide to wash this beast myself. I have done it many times. A wholesome and productive activity and the lawn needs water anyway.
Assembling and dusting off the cleaning supplies, the car washing process begins. The neighborhood children, prone to curiosity and musings about what this old girl does all day, suspend their skateboarding and ball play to assemble on the side walk- asking the obvious, " Are you washing your car?" and "That's good. It's really dirty.". Its as if they've never ever washed a car before. (and you know, I don't think they have!).
I felt hopeful to see the mud and dirt slide from the car, revealing its navy blue finish and previous shined chrome accents. Humming with satisfaction, and scrubbing away at the caked on dirt and bug , I accidently step on the hose nozzle, catching it under the flip flop strap and am sprayed full throttle in the face and legs in frigid water. Unable to detach, I kick away the shoes, slip on the lawn and slide under the car, still being sprayed by the damn hose.
While hose wrangling under the car, I see that the undercarriage is caked in mud, so I attempt to direct the water spray in that direction, but forget to close my mouth. How many bacterium do you think live in freeway mud and muck?
Miffed at being assaulted with my own garden hose, I brush dripping hair out of my face, reach for the car shammy and start drying off as well as I can. My shirt is hanging on me. I am NOT wet T-shirt competition worthy. Hoping that the sun will blaze me dry in seconds, I continue my task, all the while knowing watchful eyes from various living room windows are registering my plight and realize timing this while the Ellen DeGeneres show was on would have been smarter. Thankfully, the children had dispersed after their insightful observations, so I did not have to contend with any more of their suggestions .
Dripping, soggy, muddy and now cold, my quick little car wash has turned into an hours long affair. Regretting that I didn't call Isaac at NEXT LEVEL CUSTOM CLEANING to come to my house and make all this happen without asking me to lift a finger .
No longer a shame driven in public.
No more bug carcasses pasted on with mud.
I can see clearly through the windows. Patting myself on the shoulders and thankful I didn't break a leg or hip crawling around on the ground.
Mr. Man arrived home just as I slapped the car with my seal of approval. He takes a look at me and proclaims me a dirty, wet mess. He's careful not to state the obvious, like, "why didn't you take it to the car wash? Satisfied at a job well done, I have a clean car, it has a belly full of fuel and the cup holders are ready for the next big outing. I'm READY!
