Wednesday, July 13, 2005

Day 54 - The screaming car wash

Picture the scene, hot dusty day, just returning home from having my head microwaved, car all dusty like it had been driving across the plains of Arizona, and the garage with the mechanical car wash.

Yesterday was start of danger week, no not the 1st week of the School holidays when sloshed academics take off for the sun, sangria and sunburn, the start of my period of confinement from illnesses and people. I stood in the queue to purchase the papers and obtain the token which would give me 5 minutes of visual pleasure in what was a genuinely dull day. The guy behind me sneezed for some reason I moved sideways and stared at him, if my eyes were lasers he would of been struck down in an instant and ended up in a packet of space dust. In purchasing the token you have to feel sorry for people who work in petrol stations, low wages, crap conditions, angry punters and the occasional robbery, bit like most jobs really.

The car wash at Countess Wear garage hides round the back, when I pulled up I noticed the car that was first in the wash when I pulled up. Now cars are just not my thing, vintage cars and VWs well lets talk baby. I take great pride in annoying my "Mr Fussy" car types, you know the ones every Sunday morning go out and clean the car, god if they were any good they would be in bed making love with their partners rather than cleaning that gleaming Rover 75. This country is obsessed with status through motor vehicles, why they are only a means of getting from A to B and if people think you are cool because you spend 25000 pounds on the a car which you can buy a similar model for, listen to me its a no brainer, bank the 19000 quid, go buy a place in Tunisia, in fact a town in Tunisia and look uncool for the 30 minutes of the day you are in your car and smile! Does your partner wash the car on Sundays? I have often wondered if their sex life is as clockwork?

I sat in the queue of one and glimpsed up 2 minutes later to see the original car still in the wash. I carried on reading the form for the "Yorkshire lasses from call centre day out piss up handicap sprint" at Beverley that afternoon and then heard a cry "help me" I looked up but saw nothing, again came the cry "help me" I looked again and saw nothing. It was clear the car wash was talking to me. The bloody car wash was talking to me. I tried to think what drugs I took when I got up to allow me to hallucinate is such a way. I heard a scream then "help me" and more screams, but could not see anything but the bloody carwash was definately speaking to me. I knew I had lost it, I thought about going back to the desk and saying to harrassed looking girl "excuse me the car wash is screaming at me, help me...I think you should call for the car wash police as you are being cruel to it" I looked up and glimpsed Laura Ashely. Not the horrid floral icon herself, but some late 1980s outfit that had either come from a charity shop or remained in the wardrobe since then, god think of her undies box if the latter is the case. She looked like that picture of Diana, when the sun was behind her and we could see her form, but this version was wet and to be frank a right nag. No seriously this floral tribute now a bit soggy was waving at me from the car wash, the doors kept on opening and closing like a swiss cuckoo clock that had gone wrong, but the annoying little bird was replaced by Laura screaming yelp! Yes inside the car wash and shouting help! In fact screaming help between that and closing the doors.


I was parked next to the emergency button, well stopping the car wash was the obvious thing, but a full risk assessment was required, are there any bugs in there? is she armed? would she want the kiss of life? is she my type? oh and its hot outside my car?, she screamed again I got angry "Stop shouting I am thinking I replied" I knew I should have pressed the red button, but it was too tempting to watch, bit like fox hunting we know its wrong but people still do it. This was definately sport and all for £2.99.

She screamed, no shrieked, however this time I was angry "Stop shouting at me you stupid cow and wait I am planning" If she knew I was planning my punt for the afternoon rather than saving her dress then I suspect a court appearence would of been on the cards. I assessed the risk of pressing the button and thought it too much and went back to reading the papers whilst Laura was trapped in her metal box. Reality set in, ok mate you had your fun this woman could die, well get wetter anyway, I then banged the red button and the car wash stopped, ordeal over, not quite, for some strange reason I went in and told the cash desk girl what had happened. She looked at me is a dissapointed look, are you not going to invite me out or rob me and said I will give you, your money back,

Laura was still trapped in the wash! I had left her stuck in the car wash whilst I went to get me three quid. I shouted for her to reverese which she did with suprising speed as I cruised off think about Earl Grey tea and Thora.

4 comments:

battypatty said...

Hmm - I am beginning to discover a bit of a sadistic streak in you, my lad!

mazzagee said...

Bad boy. Snigger snigger. I think you may have found the reason you were looked upon so favourably as to get this cursed illness. Just so you have the time to experience the good things in life. You know, those things that go on whilst you would normally be busy at work. How else would you find the time to actually clean your car let alone have so much fun not doing it.

Alex said...

Bloody marvellous!! I loved it!! Can a car wash be such fun?? What if you hadn't been there - Laura might still be in it, suds and all.
Best Wishes

Alex

Orpah said...

Your so cruel, thats the sort of thing that would happen to me and i'm fairly sure there would be no-one around to rescue me! Probably explains why my car is a permenant colour of filth though!

Mind you many many years ago i had a friend who used to hang around car washes in the hope she'd meet the man of her dreams with the car of her dreams....! :)