At the Car Wash
It takes a lot to get me to the car wash, at least for my car. In case you are unfamiliar with my car (well, technically Carrie's car, since the title is still in her name), it's a white 1998 Toyota Corolla.
In and of itself, there's nothing particularly wrong with that. I mean, probably no one's ideal of a dream car, but still, it's good, reliable transportation. My Corolla has been paid off for two years and still runs fairly well. I've probably only put about 3 or 400 bucks worth of work into it since it's been paid off.
As far as keeping the car looking shiny and clean, well, that's not so much my thing. There's a giant dent on the hood where a tree fell on it, and at least two of the hub caps are missing. The interior of the car isn't the messiest of any car I've owned, but I still manage to keep up a healthy collection of ties, out-of-season clothing and the occasional discarded fast food containers. About the only modification I've made to the decor of the car is a Pembroke-Welsh Corgi sticker on the back. I am just that kind of badass.
Taking all of the into consideration, it really takes a lot to get me to bother with a car wash. Until last Thursday, I think the closest I'd ever gotten to an official car wash was using the windshield wiper squeegee at the gas station to wipe off extraneous bird doo from the roof of my car.
But over the last week, even I had reached my limit with how disgustingly dirty the outside of my car had gotten. Apparently, where I park my car in the driveway is underneath a tree that's been dripping a heady combination of pollen, sap, and some kind of little black seed. About the only thing the outside of my car was missing was a light coating of gypsy moth caterpillars. My boss said it looked like I had driven through some kind of tobacco-spitting contest. I'd park my car at work or at Carrie's work, and for the first time in my life, I was embarrassed by the car I was driving (which is a pretty tall order for someone who used to own a Hyundai).
So I went to the car wash, and it was pretty darn uneventful (not sure what kind of excitement I was looking for - maybe a laser show or something) even though I do get a little gidgy about driving in between the little tracks that push your car through the car wash. I always think I'm going to go off the tracks, although I don't know what kind of damage this would cause when I'm driving at about 2 mph.
I wouldn't say the car wash (I got the basic variety - I mean, I'm not going to go totally crazy with this thing) got my car sparkling, but it at least got me down to an acceptable level of dirt and grime that doesn't make me feel like I've just driven Ma and Pa Joad through the Oklahoma dust bowl.
Of course, I'm still parking in the same spot in the driveway, so who knows how long this feeling will last.
In and of itself, there's nothing particularly wrong with that. I mean, probably no one's ideal of a dream car, but still, it's good, reliable transportation. My Corolla has been paid off for two years and still runs fairly well. I've probably only put about 3 or 400 bucks worth of work into it since it's been paid off.
As far as keeping the car looking shiny and clean, well, that's not so much my thing. There's a giant dent on the hood where a tree fell on it, and at least two of the hub caps are missing. The interior of the car isn't the messiest of any car I've owned, but I still manage to keep up a healthy collection of ties, out-of-season clothing and the occasional discarded fast food containers. About the only modification I've made to the decor of the car is a Pembroke-Welsh Corgi sticker on the back. I am just that kind of badass.
Taking all of the into consideration, it really takes a lot to get me to bother with a car wash. Until last Thursday, I think the closest I'd ever gotten to an official car wash was using the windshield wiper squeegee at the gas station to wipe off extraneous bird doo from the roof of my car.
But over the last week, even I had reached my limit with how disgustingly dirty the outside of my car had gotten. Apparently, where I park my car in the driveway is underneath a tree that's been dripping a heady combination of pollen, sap, and some kind of little black seed. About the only thing the outside of my car was missing was a light coating of gypsy moth caterpillars. My boss said it looked like I had driven through some kind of tobacco-spitting contest. I'd park my car at work or at Carrie's work, and for the first time in my life, I was embarrassed by the car I was driving (which is a pretty tall order for someone who used to own a Hyundai).
So I went to the car wash, and it was pretty darn uneventful (not sure what kind of excitement I was looking for - maybe a laser show or something) even though I do get a little gidgy about driving in between the little tracks that push your car through the car wash. I always think I'm going to go off the tracks, although I don't know what kind of damage this would cause when I'm driving at about 2 mph.
I wouldn't say the car wash (I got the basic variety - I mean, I'm not going to go totally crazy with this thing) got my car sparkling, but it at least got me down to an acceptable level of dirt and grime that doesn't make me feel like I've just driven Ma and Pa Joad through the Oklahoma dust bowl.
Of course, I'm still parking in the same spot in the driveway, so who knows how long this feeling will last.
posted by endangered coffee at 6:32 PM
Funny stuff.
I've owned my share of cars that were less than optimal viewing material. I empathize.