One cold February night, when Chewie was still a tiny puppy, the three of us piled into my car and headed to the gas station. I needed gas and car wash since, for weeks, it had been way too cold to wash the car by hand. We were a little surprised that the car wash was open because many stations close their washes in the wintertime. We naively considered ourselves very lucky.
As I pulled the car into the wash, Brett rolled down his window.
"What are you doing? Roll up the window! It's freezing out there! I've already put down the antenna. " I snapped at him.
"Hold on... I'm just so curious..."
"About what?"
"What are these brushes made of? They don't look like fabric, but they don't look like regular bristles either... Pull forward a little bit so I can see..." Brett leaned his whole body out the window, stretching his arm toward the floppy tendrils on the giant roller-brush. "Just a little bit more... further... up just a weeeeee bit more..."
*Click* My front tires rolled onto the activation plate. Water began to drizzle onto the windshield.
"Ack! It's starting! Get back in here and roll up the window! Quick!"
Brett fell backward into his seat and fumbled for the automatic window switch. He pushed up on it, but nothing happened.
"It must be on child-lock! You do it!" he cried as the giant brushes began to spin and pick up speed.
I tried the window switch on the driver's console. The window started to ascend. It rolled halfway to the top, and then... stopped. It refused to budge. Brett wiggled it, banged on it, yanked on it, and swore at it, until...
*SPLOOSH!!!* A gigantic tidal wave of freezing cold sudsy water shot in through the 8-inch gap at the top of the window. I screamed. Brett spluttered. The puppy dove toward refuge in the back seat.
The water kept coming and coming and coming. Brett stood up as best he could, put his back to the window and spread his thin jacket across the opening. The giant bristles beat on his back and another wave of arctic water poured in.
The soapy spray passed overhead again, then a double rinse, and an extra pass with a spray wax (curse you, deluxe wash!) and we were finally clean, inside the car and out.
That window had never malfunctioned prior and has never malfunctioned since. As soon as we pulled out of the car wash, freezing, soaked, and defeated, the window saw fit to work once more. Very funny, Honda Civic passenger-side window. Good one. Joke is on us.
But lest you think this was not a learning experience for us, we did come away with one tidbit of information:
The giant floppy bristles on the giant roller-brushes in the car wash are made of rubber squeegees. Just though you'd like to know. Pass it on.
3 comments:
I actually already knew that. If only you'd asked.
I imagine living with Brett provides so many more of these kinds of stories than if you'd married some regular guy. I LOVE IT.
That's actually quite useful information.
Yeah, just so happened to malfunction my butt!!! I am very suspicious of a certain Platypus and a certain child-lock feature
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