This morning I was getting ready to leave the house for work. I had taken care of most things required to get my tush out the door: hair and makeup, breakfast, pack lunch, and clothing. Being a 'holiday' I of course had on my snazzy new St. Patrick's Day t-shirt, which pictures a 4-leaf clover. I was ready for some serious good luck. But of course... as usual... things took an unusual turn.
As I placed my purse on the mantel to open the door that I was to head out of, the giant mirror which nicely complements said mantel crashed to the floor.
I broke a mirror on St. Patrick's Day.
I decided the lucky shirt cancels out the broken mirror, especially since I didn't look into the broken pieces of the mirror (my roommate, bless her, informed me that only when you look into the pieces of the broken mirror does it initiate the curse of 7 unlucky years)... thoughts?
Monday, March 17, 2008
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Adventure at the car wash
I was overly zealous with my to-do list today and included washing my car. I hope to marry a man that enjoys washing cars, or at least will take it to the wash so I don't have to. There are other moments I wish I had a husband; few and far between, but they occur. Like when I was shopping for a computer and the guy at Best Buy is going on and on about Ram and mega-something and "do you have a digital camera because that will have an impact on what kind of computer you should get." Or when car salesmen were stalking me around the dealership and I was already emotional since my car was stolen and now I've got this creepy guy following me around asking me quasi-personal questions and I just want to scream at him and kick him in the shins. Or when basically anything automotive comes up that I have to deal with, such as the car wash today.
Of course I'm too cheap to actually pay to have someone else wash it, and I wanted the 'exercise' (although I got more then I bargained for there as will be explained later) so I went to one of those places you pull in and put quarters in the machine and the sprayer turns on and you proceed to drive to another area where you insert more quarters and the super powered vacuum finishes the job rather nicely.
As I got things ready I realized the place was completely creepy. Like, really creepy. There was some guy in the stall next to me with a truck bed full of crap. I don't know what he was doing but he certainly wasn't washing his truck (this is another one of those moments I wish I had a husband, and one of those moments when I think to myself "I do not want to make my TV debut on the 5 o'clock news, be smart Shelly"). He was the only person around for a good 50 yards, so it was basically me against the world on this one.
In pulls another vehicle: teal green early '90s Rav-4 with a white soft-top. And out steps a man who is dressed way too nicely to be driving that car. "Strange," I thought to myself, but proceeded. I wash, and wash and wash (the snowboarding trip 2 days prior left a nice sheet of salty muck, so it took a while). I'm just about done and can feel my spray time running out. Up walks Rav-4 man and asks:
R4: "Do you have a quarter?"
Shell: (blank stare, backs away slightly)
R4: (completely unaffected by blank stare) "Do you have a quarter?"
*I feel I must educate on social cues as he did not seem to understand: When a young girl gives you blank stare and does not answer your question, you should walk away. This means she does not want to talk to you and is slightly freaked out that you have approached her.**
I realize he is harmless (and there's a good chance not attracted to females based upon his attire, vehicle, voice and strut) and try to help him out, but the timer is flashing in the back of my mind.
Shell: um... yeah, well, hold on a sec, just let me finish this.
R4: (As timer beeps and water turns off) Well I don't mean to interrupt you.
Shell: (thinking) "Really? Because actually that's exactly what you did. You interrupted me and now the final portion of my car is still dirty, jerkface. I'm assuming you know these things are on a timer as would be indicated by your request for a quarter, meaning you have probably operated this before."
I hand him a quarter and he puts his hand out to offer 2 dimes and 1 nickel. A nice gesture, but seriously, keep the change buddy. I managed to clean up the remainder of the bumper ultra-ghetto style with some paper towels and dollar store windex.
Once the car is dry I head over to the vacuum area. Rav-4 and truck-o-crap guy have since left and now I'm feeling even more scared if such a thing were possible. At the vacuum I notice all the trash in my back seat and on the floor and start scooping it so I can find my floor and vacuum it. However, there's no trash can... How you operate a car wash without a trash can is beyond me but these people seem to do it. So I proceed to the dumpster and back to the vacuum.
I also managed to pick a day with a wind advisory to wash my car upon. My floor-mats are blowing away, I'm blowing away, practically the whole car is blowing away (here's where I got all my exercise). I gained more respect for the people who work at car washes and vow to tip them better next time.
I could have washed my car at home, in my driveway, like I successfully have before. But I was looking for a reason to get out of the house, an adventure if you will. Well, an adventure I got.
Of course I'm too cheap to actually pay to have someone else wash it, and I wanted the 'exercise' (although I got more then I bargained for there as will be explained later) so I went to one of those places you pull in and put quarters in the machine and the sprayer turns on and you proceed to drive to another area where you insert more quarters and the super powered vacuum finishes the job rather nicely.
As I got things ready I realized the place was completely creepy. Like, really creepy. There was some guy in the stall next to me with a truck bed full of crap. I don't know what he was doing but he certainly wasn't washing his truck (this is another one of those moments I wish I had a husband, and one of those moments when I think to myself "I do not want to make my TV debut on the 5 o'clock news, be smart Shelly"). He was the only person around for a good 50 yards, so it was basically me against the world on this one.
In pulls another vehicle: teal green early '90s Rav-4 with a white soft-top. And out steps a man who is dressed way too nicely to be driving that car. "Strange," I thought to myself, but proceeded. I wash, and wash and wash (the snowboarding trip 2 days prior left a nice sheet of salty muck, so it took a while). I'm just about done and can feel my spray time running out. Up walks Rav-4 man and asks:
R4: "Do you have a quarter?"
Shell: (blank stare, backs away slightly)
R4: (completely unaffected by blank stare) "Do you have a quarter?"
*I feel I must educate on social cues as he did not seem to understand: When a young girl gives you blank stare and does not answer your question, you should walk away. This means she does not want to talk to you and is slightly freaked out that you have approached her.**
I realize he is harmless (and there's a good chance not attracted to females based upon his attire, vehicle, voice and strut) and try to help him out, but the timer is flashing in the back of my mind.
Shell: um... yeah, well, hold on a sec, just let me finish this.
R4: (As timer beeps and water turns off) Well I don't mean to interrupt you.
Shell: (thinking) "Really? Because actually that's exactly what you did. You interrupted me and now the final portion of my car is still dirty, jerkface. I'm assuming you know these things are on a timer as would be indicated by your request for a quarter, meaning you have probably operated this before."
I hand him a quarter and he puts his hand out to offer 2 dimes and 1 nickel. A nice gesture, but seriously, keep the change buddy. I managed to clean up the remainder of the bumper ultra-ghetto style with some paper towels and dollar store windex.
Once the car is dry I head over to the vacuum area. Rav-4 and truck-o-crap guy have since left and now I'm feeling even more scared if such a thing were possible. At the vacuum I notice all the trash in my back seat and on the floor and start scooping it so I can find my floor and vacuum it. However, there's no trash can... How you operate a car wash without a trash can is beyond me but these people seem to do it. So I proceed to the dumpster and back to the vacuum.
I also managed to pick a day with a wind advisory to wash my car upon. My floor-mats are blowing away, I'm blowing away, practically the whole car is blowing away (here's where I got all my exercise). I gained more respect for the people who work at car washes and vow to tip them better next time.
I could have washed my car at home, in my driveway, like I successfully have before. But I was looking for a reason to get out of the house, an adventure if you will. Well, an adventure I got.
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