Or let me be more clear. I was a passenger in a car that went through a car wash.
So what, you might say, and you would be right. Cars are washed every day and people are in them when it happens. Yes. But when that person is me, who is afraid of being in a car wash, well, now we have a little story.
You might also say, why not just wait outside while your husband takes the car through, and I’d say, if you saw this car wash site, which holds not only the car wash building but another whole section including a whole lot of self-car-washing stations, vacuums, cars rushing here and there, and so on, you’d stay in the car, too. It’s just safer.
And last, you might say, you could wash the car at home. Yes, I could, but I’d just rather not. I already wash a whole lot of other things at home and I don’t want to add to the list. My husband prefers the car wash for the same reason and since he’s willing to drive through it, well…you get the idea.
What’s the point of all this? Well, today I decided to photo the terrifying experience and let you get the shivers along with me. Maybe facing my fear would lessen it. maybe some day I’d take the car to the car wash myself. No, that might be too much to ask. Let’s just take things one step at a time. So…
Here we go.
The photojournalism slant of this trip through the car wash was a success for me, because I was so busy clicking pictures I did not think a lot about the feeling of being helplessly carried along a track soaped and scrubbed and rinsed and blow-dried. That’s good.
What the car thought about it, I do not know. She (Our car is a she and she is named Cara Mia) is beautifully clean now, though, and looks really nice.
All is well that ends well, right?