Two weeks ago, I was at Sam's club getting things for a Youth Convention that we were taking about 100 kids to. It was the day before we were leaving, and the calm before the storm, really. I had an uneventful trip to Sam's, got everything I needed, and then decided to get gas before running a few more errands.
When you get gas at Sam's, they ask you if you want to also get your car washed. In the nearly three years that I've had my car, I've never actually taken it through a carwash. And I've never gone through one on my own.
(Disclaimer: I'm fully aware that getting my car washed on my own is really not some big life passage that should stick out in my mind. But because of this story, it always will.)
I took a look at my car, saw all the dust on it, and thought, hey, I should get it washed. Oh, I should probably add that I had gotten home late the night before, and re-run over an already-dead skunk on the road, so my car also smelled a little bit like skunk.
I pulled up to the carwash, got my car on the little track thing, threw it into neutral, and took my foot off the brake, just like the guy told me. Then, I thought, "hey! I should take a picture of this to commemorate my first carwash experience alone!" (you know, like any normal person would do...)
Now, I'd like to direct your attention to the aforementioned photo. See the red thing that seems to be laying on the ground underneath the strips of felt that are about to wash my car? Yeah....that's not supposed to be there. Keep that in mind for this next part.
All seems to go perfectly well in the carwash...until I start to drive away. And that's when I hear this awful scraping noise. The kind of noise that makes me think the entire undercarriage of my car has been ripped off and is now dragging on the ground below me. So I pull over into a parking space (or actually, across 4 parking spaces), and I proceed to walk around my car trying to figure out what's going on. Finally, I bend down to look under my car.
And that's when I realize that that red thing in the photo is actually two plastic gasoline containers that have now lodged themselves under my car. I manage to pull one of them out, but no amount of tugging, driving really fast and then throwing on the brake, kicking, or shoving will dislodge the other one.
I call my dad, who doesn't answer.
I call my mom, who's in a meeting.
Finally, I call my boyfriend, who's over an hour away, but I at least need someone to brainstorm with me. My first idea is to somehow spear the container (mind you, I have no sharp objects with me), but luckily, one of us in this relationship has half a brain, because AJ suggests I jack up my car and pull the container out. Because my jack is buried under 6 cases of water, 3 dozen muffins, 45 apples, 10 lbs of oranges, and an assortment of other candy and snacks, I drive my car, with the gas container dragging along under it, over to the tire center at Sam's.
Needless to say, the shortened version of this story leaves the guys in the tire center endlessly amused and puzzled, but they help me nonetheless and I'm on my way with a good story and only slightly bruised ego.
And that, my friends, is the story of my first carwash experience.
