Get Blown

So we’re at the car wash, right? The one you drive through, with the flappy whatsamajiggy things that spin around your car and the soap sprayers that sort of engulf you while you sit there and just… Let it do its thing.

Right?

And the thing is, at this particular car wash, you have to pull forward when it’s finished washing and as you’re driving out, there are these giant fans that basically give your car a blow-dry.

So we’re sitting in the car wash and he says, “I don’t see why I should have to drive forward to get to the blowers. I mean, all these other things whizz and zurr around the car, why can’t the fans do the same thing?”

And my husband, he knows the people who own this car wash, right? I mean… He “knows” them in that he has DM’ed them on Facebook or some such. They live in our neighborhood and he’s had internet convos with them.

So I say, “You’ve talked to these people, right?”

And he’s like, “Yes, she’s a really nice lady.” (It’s a married couple who own it, but she does the PR portion of things; thus, ‘nice lady’.)

So I give him a suggestion.

“What you should do,” I tell him, “is send her a message with a suggestion.”

He nods.

“Tell her it would really be a much better top-off to the experience if you did not have to move at all.”

He nods again.

“You just need to let her know you don’t want to drive forward to finish off. You’d much prefer to just sit here and get blown.”

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While this post wasn’t *exactly* inspired by this one (I mean, really… the things my husband says are just too fun/ny not to play with; if anything, *he* is the inspiration for most of the posts I write like this), the fact that there are people out there who ‘get it’ (and enjoy it) when I play with words gives me all the more joy in doing so — in written form — here with you. 🙂