|
March 27,
2001
We're at the car
wash, the one on Vine that has the $6.99 specials on Tuesday and
Thursdays.
This is not the
place for earth shattering revelations, right?
No, not really, unless you're pathetic dumbass me.
He had bugged me for days to get my car washed.
I'm one of those people that will take my car to the car wash
maybe once every three months, and that's if I think of it on the day
that I just happen to have nothing else to do.
|
|
My excuse
is always that I don't have the money to piss away on a car
wash, and I'd rather wash it myself.
Which is true, except that I'm a lazy ass, and when I
have the time to wash the car, I don't have the inclination.
Plus I'm in the school of thought that nobody's gonna
break into a dirty car. A
dirty car means there's absolutely nothing worth stealing
inside. Really.
I think it's scientifically proven.
I have no
idea why my dirty car bugs Ethan so much, but it does, and it is
so much that Ethan grabs my keys away from me and drives it to
the car wash himself, tricking me into it by saying we're gonna
go have lunch at Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles.
So we've
handed the car off to the attendant dude, and we're walking down
the aisle with the windows where you can see your little car
being scrubbed squeaky clean, and there's a couple of mirrors on
the other side of the hall, and I see something out of the
corner of my eye.
|
