Friday, December 15, 2006

You Want Hot Wax With That?

The 'chick came in from work this evening and was thinking of YOU, Patient Reader. Thinking that she really needed to post something new to move that rambling mess from a couple of days ago on down the list. Something funny, something interesting, hell, just SOMETHING!

So, she was thinking about her day today - did anything interesting happen? Well, no, not really. Did a few visits, nothing out of the ordinary. So, what to say?

Then, the 'chick started thinking about what she did this morning, to kill some time between visits. The 'chick's car was a dirty, dirty girl and desperately needeed a bath. The nastiness level exceeded what a drive-through car wash would handle so it was going to mean the 'chick doing the job herself, to make sure that the car was actually clean.

To the car wash!

The 'chick pulled into one of the bays and headed to the change machine for a handful of quarters. So far, so good.

It's been awhile since the 'chick has used one of these car washes, so she studied up on the directions. There are about 4000 choices of settings but the 'chick made a selection and plugged in the quarters. The tire soak thing didn't seem to be working, but whatever - she'd just get it with the brush. So, she followed the brush directions and sprayed the soapy stuff (on the "Spray nozzle soapy stuff" setting) over the car - she thought. It was kind of soapy, but not what she expected. There was, however, a large pile of soapy foam on the floor under the brush. When she changed the dial to the "Foamy brush" setting, it sort-of worked, but not really. Precious time was ticking away, so the 'chick went for it anyway and washed the car off, saving the tires for last. Washing complete, and after plugging in MORE quarters, the chick switched it to "High Powered Rinse" and promptly blew MORE soap onto the car. Grrr. Ok, switch to "Spot Free Rinse" and this only produced a slightly less foamy spray. Rinsing, rinsing, rinsing, determined to not use more quarters.

At THIS point, Patient Reader, the 'chick came to the conclusion that a jokester - a funny, funny person, had most likely yanked the knob off and put it back in an alternate position so that no matter what you thought you were going to do, it wasn't going to work out for you. The 'chick was out of patience and nearly out of quarters so she gave it up and figured that since she had gottem most of the yuck off, she would just run it through the automatic car wash next door and finish it up, making sure that whatever she had sprayed on the car last was all washed away.

So, car dripping and slightly soapy still, she pulled up to the automatic wash and put in some money. It ATE the money and still wanted more. No way, uh uh. The 'chick went to the cashier and demanded he either give back her money or make the car wash turn on. He handed her the money. Grrr. So, the 'chick just drove really, really fast to blow off the remaining bubbles and called it good. (There really wasn't much soap on the car but it seemed like it at the time.)

This got the 'chick to thinking about her car. Well, more specifically, her car's name. For, yes, the 'chick's car has a name. And her name is Payback.

Why Payback, you ask?

There are two reasons, well, actually three. The first reason is because Payback is a bitch. The second reason is because this car (a 2003 Monte Carlo) is the 'chick's first "Big Girl" car. She picked it out, test drove it, and bought it on her own. No men involved. No husband, no dad, no brothers. No extra input. No one telling her, "Roadchick, you don't want that car." All hers. Her choice. What she wanted. Hers. And the third reason is because in several Kid Rock songs, he talks about "Payback" as in: Looking for the Payback. The 'chick loves Kid Rock and it's a little secret just between The Kid and the 'chick. And now, you, Patient Reader, but don't tell anyone, ok?

It's funny because the 'chick has not named anything else - not her washer or dryer, not her fridge, not anything else inanimate. People ask about the name - because it's on the rear side windows - and some understand and some don't, but that's ok because the 'chick and Payback DO understand.

What about you, Patient Reader? Have you named anything inanimate? (The 'chick does NOT want to know that you've named your boobs Skip and Flippy or anything else....on your body. That falls under TMI and violators will be mocked, publically.)


Pacian said...

A Paciant Reader replies:

Honestly, I don't seem to have named any inanimate objects. Soft toys and plants not counting, of course. Perhaps I should call my bed Gary or something.

"Gary had me bent at a funny angle last night, I hardly got any sleep!"

On second thoughts, maybe not.

Pacian said...

How many times did that post?! Blogger was giving me problems... First it wouldn't post at all, then it posted twice, and now a third one has crawled out of the dark crannies of the net. Please delete away, 'Chick...


Roadchick said...

That just might be your computer, asking for a name. . .

Brianne said...

I recently named my boyfriend's street buggy project "the Mistress" because that's where he is when he isn't home. He loves the name and even lengthened it to include the make. (it's a VW)
It's now officially the Very Wicked Mistress.