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I recently bumped into this piece that I had been working on for one of my professors 11 years ago. I never submitted it anywhere, probably for no other reason that time constraints. I’m finally letting it out into the wild, with no edits.
I typed in the code from the receipt onto the keypad. The speaker box said, “Thank you! You have selected our Ultimate Wash, the best wash we have available. Please pull forward.” “Sure,” I replied, and rolled up my window. The machine almost sounded excited that it wouldn’t have to suggestively up-sell the more expensive car wash to me. Even machines are taught our consumeristic sales behaviors these days.
Slowly, slowly…clack. The machine knew I was there now, because the car’s wheel was resting on a lever, and we could officially begin. As the jets of water began to patter slowly on the car, I felt like I, not my car, was taking a shower. A shower would have been glorious, really. It was 9pm, and I had just come from teaching my last class. Mind you, I had spent four and a half hours as a student in class that day before coming back and teaching my own students for three and a half hours, after which time I had a two-hour meeting with my classmates for a presentation due that Wednesday. Even recalling it now feels tiring.
I sat there in the quiet, dark anonymity of the carwash. There was a functional reason for washing my car at night — I had…
