dirty car_edited-1-1

representation of my “baby”

I intended to treat my car to a deluxe wash this morning before my grocery shopping.  My car and I have been in a winter funk and I wanted to give her a spruce up.  She would later be escorting us to a black tie affair so the thick layers of winter grunge would not do.  I was so engrossed in the mental review of my shopping list that I drove right past the street where the touch-less car wash is located.  No biggy, I’ll do it on my way home, I thought to myself.

An hour later I found myself in line, four deep, at the car wash.  It’s a two lane wash and the natural rotation funneled me to the right lane.  I put my car in park and looked up to discover that the wash ahead was empty.  The woman three cars up was waving her hands with frustration at the automated teller machine.  I hadn’t noticed when the car in line ahead of her pulled through the grass around the building and parked off to our left.  A kind gentleman dismounted this vehicle and approached to inform those of us waiting that the wash we were in line for was not working.  I directed my vehicle to the “emergency escape lane” and exited the lot driving past one very long singular line of dirty cars.

I promptly remembered a car wash of some type at the BP across the street from the chaotic Get Go station.  I cautiously approached the car wash’s automated teller with lack of conviction.  I had never subjected my “baby” to whirling brushes and slapping chamois.  I contemplated the options and then explained to “her” that she was no longer a youngster, and occasionally more drastic measures may need be employed in her grooming.  I consoled “her” with the fact that I, too, would subject myself to more extreme methods of scrubbing and scraping and we would delve into this new phase together.

soapThe light flashed green and the doors parted, beckoning my filthy car to enter.  We slowly rolled forward until the indicator flashed red and we were pleasantly surprised to find ourselves quickly immersed in a rainbow of soapy suds.  Slowly the suds slid together, banding before the approaching spinning whap-whap-whap-whap-whap, and the slapping whep-whep-whep-whep-whep, repeat…..rinse…..and then……SURPRISE, the dryers came to us!  What a relief not to have the pressure of accurately timing the strategically controlled advance through the dryers.  We both felt lighter and freer as we pulled away towards home.

Psalm 51:5-10

Behold, You desire truth in the innermost being,
         And in the hidden part You will make me know wisdom.

Purify me with hyssop, and I shall be clean;
         Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.

Make me to hear joy and gladness,
         Let the bones which You have broken rejoice.

Hide Your face from my sins
         And blot out all my iniquities.

Create in me a clean heart, O God,
         And renew a steadfast spirit within me.


About found4sure

I like to write. I think too much!
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