Monday, March 9, 2015

At The Car Wash

Saturday or Sunday morning, which ever day I don't work, you'll find me at the car wash scrubbing down my Jeep. It's a ritual in my world. So much so, that if the weather is going to be horrid over the weekend I still think about washing my Jeep. Of course the ice and snow would splatter up upon my shiny fenders the second I leave the car wash bay.

Last Saturday was one of those days. I got up early, stopped for a venti Toffee Nut Latte, and headed towards my favorite car wash. The Jeep was especially mud-caked due to endless snow.... and a prime muddy lot close to a friend's house that NEEDED to have my spin in circles, over and over. But, the warm weather and sun shine brought out everyone with my same idea. Saturday morning car wash.

I am not apposed to having a professional carwash, the type where you stand and watch a crew rub down you car; they just seem to never get my car clean. The drive through style of car wash are seemingly designed to be anti-Jeep. The fenders and back come out dirtier then before the flashy lights and soap streams of the water tunnel. So in my cleanliness OCD, I end up at the self-wash car wash.

I am so thankful for times like these. Complete Steve quality time with my Jeep. My headphones blasting, coffee in one hand, and a spray nozzle in the other. Washing away the grime of the week.

2 comments:

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  2. I remember back to the "good old days," when guys would somehow wash their cars in Cheeseman Park. I nearly wrecked my own car driving around and around in circles, watching shirtless men wash their vehicles from buckets and dry them meticulously in the summer sun. Now I realize it was all done as a playful ruse, but it was a seasonal pleasure to witness. 'Like watching geese migrate or the changing of the leaves in the mountains.

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