JANUARY 2020
So I begin my day with a brief stop at the fuel station where I spy an offer too good to miss - 1/2 price car wash with every $40 of fuel. As it so happens I’m filling my tank up and my van is well overdue a wash. Win win I think.
On enquiring about said offer within, I ask if my Toyota Hiace (clues in the name - ‘Hi’-ace) is going to be able to fit into the automated machine. The fuel attendant confidently tells me ‘Yes, you should be fineee. All manner of trucks go through there. If it doesn’t work come back and we’ll give you a refund’.
GREAT. I’m good to go.
I get to the wash and tentatively check the height of the van v’s the guide hanging down from the roof. It’s tight but looks doable, so I drive the van partway underneath to make sure it’s all good before going any further. I’m fine I think, so I’ll just leave it there while I pop my code in to get started.
At this point the thought occurs to me…. ‘should I reverse out and start the machine, or am I able to get back into my van quickly before it kicks off?’
I’ll be fine I think, so I leave the drivers door open, intending on skipping swiftly back into position once I’ve got the thing going. After all, it would take a minute for the thing to warm up, let me get the vehicle in place....It’ll be seamless….
So in goes my half price code. ALL GOOD.
With the confidence of someone who has frequented automated car washes for all eternity I press ENTER…..
BOOM.
Straight out of nowhere, with no warning whatsoever and before I can even about turn, there’s a violent, projectile jet of water hailing sideways from the machine straight into the open door of the van.
I scream.
And run as quickly as I can, lobbing myself with abandon through the drivers door and slam it shut.
I’m soaked. The INSIDE of the van is soaked. The machine is yelling at me to MOVE FORWARD…..
Why is it talking to me NOW? When it wasn’t even polite enough to let me know we were getting started?
I’m in a state of complete panic.
The large flat white coffee I had 20 minutes before is overcaffienating my brain and I’m overcome with anxiety and an inability to make swift decisions.
‘MOVE FORWARD’ the bastard thing blurts at me.
OK ok…. I engage drive and position myself for the wash. Breathe I think. Just wipe yourself down it’ll be fine.
The machine starts to move towards me slowly, threateningly staring me down with its soapy jets. I’m terrified and sit motionless until it reaches the roof of my van.
CLUNK. Clunkety clunk…. clunk, clunk….
It rattles across my roof. I’m too big. Shit. What now? I start to hyperventilate. I’m going to break it. My van’s going to be eaten alive by a bubble bath.
Fuckkkkk.
It finishes traversing the length of my roof and stops. All is silent for a moment. ‘Are we good?’ I think.
‘GET OUT!’ the machine yells at me.
Sirens start wailing. Red lights are flashing in my eyes. There’s a warning bell that is pointing directly at my drenched face and telling me I’m a failure to humanity and a disgrace to all that have come before me.
‘GET OUT’ it yells.
I put my foot down and hoof it out of the machine. But I can’t see. The internal soaking has fogged up my windscreen and I’m rendered blind.
I stop. Shaking, I wipe down the window until I’m safe to go. Embarrassed and ashamed I leave the fuel station. I don’t go back for my refund.
They might get me on camera.
