The car wash is not the tunnel of love

The car wash. Everyone has been to one. Some have described it as what it may sound like inside a maraca, others a time saver, some a way of going green. But what is it really? A tunnel of water, and don't ever forget it. It has been awhile since my last trip through the car wash. I went this weekend and at first was filled with anxiousness and a slight hesitation. Why on earth would that be? Let me tell you, my last trip through went a little like this...

I had my wonderful old car named Abe. It was 25 years old, solid steel and as big as a boat (it had the turning radius of one as well). I named it Abe because due to its age, long trips were not in his future. He was a purely A to B car, thus Abe was born. One Saturday morning I decided I was going to be extra productive. I had a list of errands to run, and planned out the trip in a large circle, as to end at home and not waste time or fuel. The errands were ran without a hitch. The final two being a hair trim and the car wash. I went to a hair school, being the poor college student I was, and the young girl was ecstatic. She loved curly hair and asked to style it. Style it she did, I looked ready to accept a country music award it was so big. Almost six inches high, I left planning on taming it at home. One last stop, the car wash. I cleaned and vacuumed and readied my change. I went in and sat as the car got covered in soap and the power sprayer came to life. As soon as the sprayer hit the driver's window it happened, water pouring into the car. With a newly empty car, there was nothing to keep the water at bay. My mind jumped into action, was the window open a crack...nope. Perhaps the door was not shut tight enough. Before the next attack I seized what I thought was the window of opportunity. With the spray behind me, I flung open the door to slam it shut only to realize there was also an undercarriage cleaning going on. With a very clean left side of my body I slammed the door and awaited my fate. The final spray came towards me but alas, the water was not kept from assaulting me one last time. Dejected and soaked I exited this tunnel of hydro-horror and defeat to come home to an apartment full of girls there to witness my now jekyll and hyde appearance. My right half, still tall and proud, a mess of curls, and my left, resembling a drown rat waiting to be hung on the clothing line. Needless to say, no matter what car, how firm the seal on the door or how determined the weather stripping, there will always be a sham wow stashed somewhere in arms reach.