So I finally get around to washing my car. It's been a week since my dad dropped it off to me here in Bowling Green. I want to pamper the car, but for now, a good cleaning is all it needs. A friend of mine owns a house in town, so I drive over and use his little, stupid, coily hose, my bucket, blue coral shampoo, a chenille mit, my old chamois, and a 100% cotton towel.

First things first: My friend has not mowed his lawn in quite a while. We're talking worst yard in the neighborhood. But it's free water and driveway space, so I'm not complaining. I spray the car down with the obligatory, preliminary rinse. Within miliseconds, every insect in the yard decides it's time for a drink. "But insects can't hover and drink, silly!" you say. Exactly. In five minutes, my car was covered with drowned bug carcasses.:evil:

So I wash them off and start with the soap. I pop the hood, clean out the radiator grill (my dad must've driven through a hornets' nest). I clean every inch of the car. I find that I left the plastic protectant film on my jam panels. I rub her down with my towel, clean the windows with my vinegar-based window cleaner and drive home very carefully.

It was beautiful outside that day. Lovely sunset and all.

Noah's Ark came through during the night.

Then a sandstorm.

Back to Square One.

Fast forward 2 weeks and I'm ready to wash my car today. I head out the Sparkle Wash, a do-it-your-selfer (the newest in town). I vacuum with their 3 engine super sucker, I clean my vinyl, and I hang my floor mats covers in the bay. It's lovely outside, yet again. Outside temp gague said it was 75 degrees. Sunny. I pull into the bay and put about $4 into the machine. Soak soak soak, soap soap soap, rinse rinse rinse, scrub scrub scrub. All the bugs around here must be made out of grease. The water doesn't move them, but my finger'll lift them right off. I buy a "Big Blue Towel" and use it to remove the last remaining buggie bodies from my bonnet.

Plop.



Drip Plop.

:???:

Plo-drip-plop.



I turn, ever so slowly, and see the tell tale stipple marks on the macadam. I stand up, walk out of the bay under the now completely overcast sky, and the clouds above BREAK.

Complete downpour.

But my car is in the bay! Yippee! I dried my car and thought I'd dodged a bullet.

Silly me.

All that nasty filth and grime on the roadway? It becomes lightweight mud under the wheels of a transfer truck. Which I followed most of the way back to my apartment.

I do believe that I am the Rain God, like the lorrey driver in Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

My car, $6 lighter and two washes later, still looks like it has yet to recieve a bath.

*sigh* One day...

 

just out of curiosity, your mini liquid yellow? bugs for some reason are attracted to the color.

 

Welcome to Ohio, my friend. Welcome. To. Ohio.

 

So close. I'm in Bowling Green, Kentucky. A little further south, but it's still as torturous. I remember the first time we drove into the state as we were moving here. I actually saw the rain start. It was right on the Kentucky border from Tennessee. It was like a Looney Toon. The rain was a curtain that we drove into. No Joke.

And my Mini is Pepper White, so it's light enough to get the buggies attention.

 

Ha! I must challenge you then, oh God of Rain, because I believe (and so do most of my friends) that I am one too! It could be an out-right drought, and as soon as I wash my baby - it rains. I'm not even talking about "it may rain in a week" forcasts. It rains that same hour! (or at least it seems to).

 

If I recall my MINI summer correctly last year, bees LOVE MINIS!!!!

 

ANDREW ANTONE! Goodness, I haven't seen that face since...

well, since...

(Probably not work-safe, and pretty offensive. I'm talking about the bit a the bottom of the page)

Something Awful Article

The face struck a cord. Sorry

_________________
Proud owner of the SECOND Mini in BG, KY

 

Not so much the rain for me as it is Bird poo. I swear those bastards aim just for my car. Bad Karma maybe.