Weird
I got stuck in a carwash the other day.
I stopped to get gas at the Phillips 44 at Olive and Ballas (you know the one)--it's the only diesel-equipped filling station around that part of town, and it also has what I believe is the best carwash for your money in all of St Louis. It's an older car wash (about the oldest touch-free wash you can get), so they didn't spend their money upgrading it with all the latest carwash laser gizmos. What they did was lengthen the time of the wash. So you get a good six minutes or so--two full cycles, including undercarriage and wheel-cleaning, and they use really good soap. It has big metal garage doors that fold down behind and in front of you, and it's a bit noisy. But man, it's a good wash, and it makes my 1985 noisy diesel car feel right at home.
Unless it shuts down halfway through the second cycle, leaving my car all shampooed up with nowhere to go. All the lights went off and it made that degenerating whir sound like when Ben Kenobi flipped the big switch in the DeathStar.
I had been playing the "Prince of Persia" game on my mobile phone, so it didn't register at first what was going on. I waited a minute to see if we were just in "soak" mode, but no lights were on, including the "soak" light.
The garage door in front of me folded up slowly, but my car was covered with suds. I threw on the wipers to get a better look, and then slowly opened my door and looked around, wincing in fear of the machine turning back on--the magnified version of looking into a trickling garden hose at the precise moment that your little brother unkinks it.
I was not planning on going home before a business dinner that evening, so I sat back in my car a couple more minutes to be sure it wasn't coming back on, and then climbed out to make sure I wasn't going to drive over any spikes on the way out. I called my mother-in-law to let her know I was going to be late picking up the boys ("you're stuck in a what?"), and then held my breath and drove out of the wheel slots and into a parking spot.
The guy inside cursed the machine (several times--he thought it was really cool to drop the F-bomb) and then offered me money back or a free wash next time. I took the money (although Tim the Manager later said I could have a free one next time anyway). I wanted to rinse the bubbles off my car, but they didn't have a hose or any sort of water bucket so I drove away down Ballas Road with suds blowing off behind me.
I haven't gone back for my free next carwash yet--oh, yes, I still think it's the best automatic carwash deal in St Louis (especially free)--but when I do I'll make sure that the boys are not with me. If it shuts down again, they might find it an adventure, OR they might be traumatized and get the shakes every time they see soap for the next decade or so. It's just not worth the risk--bathtime in the Maynor household is enough work as it is.
I stopped to get gas at the Phillips 44 at Olive and Ballas (you know the one)--it's the only diesel-equipped filling station around that part of town, and it also has what I believe is the best carwash for your money in all of St Louis. It's an older car wash (about the oldest touch-free wash you can get), so they didn't spend their money upgrading it with all the latest carwash laser gizmos. What they did was lengthen the time of the wash. So you get a good six minutes or so--two full cycles, including undercarriage and wheel-cleaning, and they use really good soap. It has big metal garage doors that fold down behind and in front of you, and it's a bit noisy. But man, it's a good wash, and it makes my 1985 noisy diesel car feel right at home.
Unless it shuts down halfway through the second cycle, leaving my car all shampooed up with nowhere to go. All the lights went off and it made that degenerating whir sound like when Ben Kenobi flipped the big switch in the DeathStar.
I had been playing the "Prince of Persia" game on my mobile phone, so it didn't register at first what was going on. I waited a minute to see if we were just in "soak" mode, but no lights were on, including the "soak" light.
The garage door in front of me folded up slowly, but my car was covered with suds. I threw on the wipers to get a better look, and then slowly opened my door and looked around, wincing in fear of the machine turning back on--the magnified version of looking into a trickling garden hose at the precise moment that your little brother unkinks it.
I was not planning on going home before a business dinner that evening, so I sat back in my car a couple more minutes to be sure it wasn't coming back on, and then climbed out to make sure I wasn't going to drive over any spikes on the way out. I called my mother-in-law to let her know I was going to be late picking up the boys ("you're stuck in a what?"), and then held my breath and drove out of the wheel slots and into a parking spot.
The guy inside cursed the machine (several times--he thought it was really cool to drop the F-bomb) and then offered me money back or a free wash next time. I took the money (although Tim the Manager later said I could have a free one next time anyway). I wanted to rinse the bubbles off my car, but they didn't have a hose or any sort of water bucket so I drove away down Ballas Road with suds blowing off behind me.
I haven't gone back for my free next carwash yet--oh, yes, I still think it's the best automatic carwash deal in St Louis (especially free)--but when I do I'll make sure that the boys are not with me. If it shuts down again, they might find it an adventure, OR they might be traumatized and get the shakes every time they see soap for the next decade or so. It's just not worth the risk--bathtime in the Maynor household is enough work as it is.
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