Car wash
Am I the only person in the world with a car wash phobia?
I took my dirty little car to the car wash. It needed it - instead of being a chirpy red, it had turned grey with ingrained salt and mud. My rear number plate was invisible (partly the reason that I had refrained from washing it - harder to get caught on camera) through the weeks of grime.
It was one of the automatic ones. Big whirring spinning things - side and top - in a scary shade of blue.
As soon as the soap suds hit the window, obscuring me from view, my heart started pounding and my throat felt constricted. The spinning washy things started up and I could barely breathe. The noise was deafening and my little car was shaking under the barrage.
I was convinced that the machine would malfunction and crush my car to a little perfect cube, with me mangled inside. At that point, I was glad for the soap suds because no-one could see the look of irrational terror on my face and start laughing.
The spinning thing came down on my windscreen. Which was replaced a week ago. In my minds eye (in slow motion for extra pleasure) I could see my new windscreen buckling under the pressure and collapsing into the car, followed closely by the infernal spinning thing. By now, my heart is working overtime and the cold sweats have begun.
Then came the drying. Force 9 gales buffet my little car, shaking me from side to side. My wing mirrors move out of alignment and I can feel my hair blowing with the strength of the air being forced through the vents. Strange how it still dries streaky. Time to start breathing easier - the worst is over and the machine only has to pass back over me. Not that I know, because my eyes have been firmly shut since the spinning thing passed over the windscreen.
Finally, after feels like an age, the little green light comes on with a beep and I can finally get the hell out of there.
Guess what? The car is still filthy.
posted by DMouse007 @ 2/03/2004 10:08:00 PM
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