I just did something unusual — well, unusual for me anyway. I took my pickup truck through the car wash. This was quite the shock to everyone I know, especially my wife who is convinced that I can’t actually see dirt until it piles up to the point that folks give it a name that starts with Mount.
Not only that, but I purchased the $25 wash — the most money I’ve spent on a vehicle cleaning in my entire life. Yes, I know some of you spend 10 times that at some specialty place where they crawl all around your vehicle with cleaning solutions, Q-Tips and lasers, but I’m what you might call frugal … or cheap. Besides, I don’t like the idea of strangers crawling in and around my vehicle.
The $25 wash supposedly included such services as rust protectant, diamond polish, carnauba wax, under body rinse, ultra dry and side mirror massage, but as I was going through the sprays, rollers and hurricane at the end, I got the feeling it was the same dang thing as my $10 wash, which supposedly includes such services as water and kinda dry.
It really was a bit dirty, I suppose, and perhaps someone had already named it Mount something because a climber fell off the truck and drowned during the wash. I didn’t feel bad, though, because the aunt who came by to claim the body said it was the cleanest she’d seen him in years.
“He’s nice and shiny, too!” she noted.
“Yeah,” I said. “Cost me 25 bucks. Sorry ‘bout your loss, by the way.”
My wife is jealous that I can drive my truck through the wash because her car is luxurious by my standards and has a lot of safety features that make it nearly impossible to drive. One of its safety features is “car wash mode,” where it actually cuts the car off while you are carried through the wash. The signs at the wash warn you not to touch the brakes, but you can’t restart her car without touching the brakes. Sometimes this takes a second or two, which means the folks behind you just might ram you accidentally. That’s why my wife tells the attendants to make sure the vehicle behind her is not too close. They hear “blah blah blah,” and leave her in “crank it fast or die mode” as a 14-passenger SUV bears down on her around the tire shine area. Her car is getting a little dirtier every day now as she is too flustered to go through the death-defying car wash, but at least she’s safe.
Of course, washing is just the pregame for me. I’m a huge fan of the free vacuums, which are not just free but also don’t cost me anything, which I really like. They’re also quite powerful. If you’re not careful, you could lose all your change out of the seats, your pet chihuahua or a kidney. Or, it can get stuck to the carpet like Marjorie Taylor-Greene’s lips on Donald Trump’s backside and blow up the whole dadgum car wash. And no matter how curious you may be about its hickey-producing capabilities, don’t try it. Trust me. Well, unless you like having a purple rectangle on your neck for a week or so.
After vacuuming, I gave it a good wipe down using the free towels and free cleaning solutions on the table of free stuff next to the free vacuums. I particularly like the glass cleaner.
“Well, I’ll be danged! It does have a speedometer!”
I grew up around folks who treated trucks like trucks. They were dirty (the trucks, that is … well, OK the folks, too) and full of tools with empty beer cans and smelly workers who rode in the pickup bed and got sand blown in their eyes. Pickup trucks were for working and hunting and navigating the kind of dirt roads that don’t show up on GPS.
I broke with my upbringing and got my truck as clean as a whistle. (I hear folks keep their whistles really clean.) Then landscapers showed up to mow the car wash’s grass and kick up dust that fell on all the clean vehicles. I’m not exactly sure why a car wash would have grass that needs mowing unless it’s to create more business. I mean, diabetes doctors don’t put Coca-Cola machines in their waiting rooms.
Oh well, at least it was clean for a few minutes. Next time, I’ll get the $10 wash. I can clean my own undercarriage, thank you.