Car Wash
A bright sunny day was perfect for cleaning the Four Runner. He rolled into line and waited for the guy to come. He glanced up at the board showing his options. Deluxe was $49.99, but it included the floor mats. He glanced down at the mass of crumbs, leaves and other detritus that had accumulated on the floor. What the hell?
The man came to the window in shorts and a work shirt with the sleeves rolled up over enormous biceps. "What'll it be?" The guy asked with the pen poised over the ticket like a waitress.
"Deluxe please." Foreman opened the door so that the attendant could drive it up to the vacuum stations.
"Good choice." He scoped out the rims and seemed disappointed that they were factory rather than custom. Foreman smiled, remembering Chris Rock's take on the spinning rims. "What fragrance you want in here?"
"What are my choices?" Foreman stood outside his idling vehicle waiting for the man to take it off his hands.
"Pina colada, new car, cherry, musk and baby powder." The guy waited.
"Which one won't give me a headache?"
"Baby powder." The guy tore off the ticket and directed him to the building to wait.
Foreman nodded at him, "Thanks man." The guy was already driving it away.
Foreman lined up to pay behind a woman with a Mercedes key ring, Louis Vuitton bag and a wireless cell phone headset on. "So do you want the platter, or do you want a salad?" He backed up to avoid having to listen to her conversation.
He looked around. A bin of cheap CD's. A rack with greeting cards. A cooler with soda and a freezer with ice cream. He glanced through the frosty top of the freezer at the ice cream bars and novelties. The only one he'd consider, Fro-Fruit Coconut, appeared to have contracted from loss of moisture. Never mind. He'd get something else.
He flipped through the cards. In the back of his mind he knew that Cameron's birthday was coming up, but he didn't think she'd appreciate the humor in the crass greetings.
When he got to the counter he paid for his car wash and looked over the cashier. She was a nice looking girl with a little too much jewelry. Giant hoop earrings dangled back and forth as she talked on the phone with a friend, "No, he didn't tell me that. His baby-mamma been asking him for child support. I told him that a box of diapers wouldn't do it. No. That's his child." She looked up and rolled her eyes in sympathy. Thank you she mouthed to him as she handed him his change. He smiled back at her. All over America, women were having that conversation with other women.
He stood at the plate glass window, watching as the cars inched through the car wash. His truck stood, soapy and wet as the fringed cleaners slowly thwaped across the surfaces. When he was a kid he used to love sitting in the car going through the car wash, it was like Disneyland. Not an E ticket, more like a C. Fun, but not Splash Mountain fun. Did they still have tickets at Disneyland? Probably not. If he referred to something fun as being an E ticket, would anyone get the joke? Probably not.
As his truck exited the car wash, a group of young men descended upon it with towels, drying quickly to prevent water spots from forming. Foreman walked out onto the covered patio where fat guys drinking out of McDonalds coffee cups read the paper while they got their cars buffed.
The gang then took out spray bottles and quickly polished the glass, in and out. A couple of wipes for good measure and the perfunctory squirts of perfume spray and the brother in the Fubu pants twirled the towel over his head. The universal car wash symbol for: Your car is ready.
Foreman slid a ten into the tip box, hoping that they could see that he wasn't stuck up and that he appreciated the job they had done on his ride. It looked and felt new. Nothing like a clean car to lift his spirits.
He pulled out into the Saturday morning traffic. That coconut ice cream called to him. He had a taste for coconut now. Big time. He thought about getting a Mounds, but that wasn't going to cut it. It had to be cold. Frappucino. With a squirt of coconut syrup. Perfect.