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Dane Allred’s World of Hurt
Car Wash Part Two
In Part One, I had just been thrashed in the car wash by the brushes and completely soaked. After pushing the car back up onto the sensor, the wash resumed. I sat cursing about my stupidity. After a few moments, the car wash stopped again. I waited for a moment to make sure all was clear. I had decided to go to the back of the car to push it out of the bay. The bump on the front of the sensor was big, and I was certain it would take quite a shove.
I got low to the ground and put my shoulder up against the tail lights. With one mighty shove, the car went forward perfectly - back up onto the sensor. This time I was behind the car, and the frenzied foaming brushes followed me right back to the driver's seat. I had fallen for the same joke twice. The car had come off the sensor twice. I had been wet before, but now I was completely soaked. It felt like I had 30 gallons of water poured on me while 100 foamy whips tried to catch me.
As I sat and watched the brushes move around and over the car, I was glad it was getting clean. I also decided that this time when the car wash stopped, whether the wash was done or not, I was going to push the car backwards out of the bay. I may be slow, but I am not totally stupid.
When the suds stopped flying I sat for at least a minute. I rocked back and forth inside the car to try to get it to go again. I looked around to see if anyone was waiting for the wash and laughing. After seeing the coast was clear, I pushed the car out the back of the wash. Except I pushed so hard that I couldn't turn the wheel inside fast enough, so it got stuck in the bend of the entrance. This carwash had a semicircular entrance, and here was my soaked car being attended by its sopping wet owner stuck on the concrete sides of a curving entrance.
A Samaritan was lurking close by, and without commenting on my wet clothes and the fact that I was trying to exit from the entrance of the car wash, he helped push the car back and forth until I could turn the wheel and free myself from the carwash of disaster. We pushed the car back another 30 feet into a parking space and I thanked him for his help. I told him the battery was dead, and that seemed to silence his questions about me being dripping wet. I can imagine his conversation at home that night. "See, the reason I am late dear is that this guy's battery died in the carwash and I helped him push the car out of the entrance. I don't know why, but this guy was all wet, too." This would be where the significant other starts smelling the breath of the good Samaritan.
I stood there by myself for a minute. The car was dead and dripping. I was soaked but not defeated, but I was standing next to the newest mall in the city in sopping wet clothes next to a wet car. I decided that it was time for me to go to the nearby Kmart and get a new battery. Even if the old one was fine, I was not going to stand around and wait for the both of us to dry. I guess I figured that if I was walking around not near a wet car people might think I had just been at a water party. It was August after all, and I was only a few miles from the local water park.
I walked the two blocks to Kmart. The good people there must see mostly everything because no one said a word about my wet clothes. By the time I had walked the battery back to the car (try carrying a car battery two blocks inconspicuously), I was starting to feel refreshed. I was clean; I had just taken a bit of exercise; I was ready to repair my car.
The battery was the only problem. With my trust crescent wrench I removed the old one, put in the new one, and the now dry car started up like a dream. I confidently went back to Kmart and got my core refund for the old battery and drove home in style, ready for a new school year.
I didn't share the story for a few days, just to let the humiliation of the event drain off a bit. I have been back to that carwash since then, but as yet, I have not had to get out again mid-wash.
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