You’d be proud of me.
I was productive, yesterday. Nothing too crazy, but I did take Roxie to the car wash. It was her first bath since she joined the family nearly 6 months ago.
Before you go lecturing me on that, you’ve got to understand a few things:
- Oh, hell. There’s nothing to understand. I’ve been a lazy bum about it.
While she spends most of her time in the garage, she does collect the grime that comes from the LA air, including the crud that blows into the garage from the pine tree-lined street. There really is no good excuse for letting it go this long.
And watching the car come down the chute, soapy and wet, reminds me of the excitement in my children’s faces when we used to go through the automated car washes. That was a treat for them as we usually washed our vehicles in the driveway. I miss those things, now.
But no psychedelic soap suds here. Strictly hand wash for Ms. Roxie.
I like coming to this place. It’s not one of those big fancy places with cushy seating and free coffee, though I noticed there are new(ish) massage chairs in the front reception area. Ew. Just ewwwwww.
The place brings back memories. I used to live a block from here, 11+ years ago, so thoughts of early sobriety flooded my senses.
But who doesn’t remember begging their parents for coins to go to the gumball machines? Or to try your skills at “the claw”?
Which brings me to a classic display of one of my finer character defects at work. Let’s see if you can name it.
I went to the car wash with camera in hand. Let’s say I wanted proof that I was productive, yesterday. No better way to prove it than with a few photos, huh?
So I watched Roxie come through the chute and get sprayed with water. No one was hand washing her with rags or anything. She was pulled out and around to the detail bay for her hand wax and interior detailing.
Now wait just one doggone minute! Are you seriously going to wax her without having performed the hand wash that I paid for?
And there it is.
My reason to go all “Redheaded Polock from the South Side of Chicago” on them. And I did. Maybe not as bad as I once would have, but that mouth just couldn’t help it.
I saw Roxie pull through the spray. No washing going on, here. And damnit, they were going to hear about it.
As it turns out, they brought their camera(s), too. Steps 8, 9, and 10 came in hot. Thank God I now have the tools I need to make this right. Or at least try to (<–preposition alert!). They were gracious and attentive; even calling the detailer back for a smudge on the wheel well long after my amends were done.
I’m told, and from experience I can say this is true: God keeps putting the same opportunities for growth (some people call them tests, but my Higher Power doesn’t work that way) in front of you until you learn what you need to learn. My self-awareness was not at its best at the car wash, yesterday. But it came quickly enough for me to act on it at a time where it might matter to all involved parties. Let’s hope that next time, it fires a little sooner.
I am, after all, just a WIP (Work In Progress).