Shelby Nichols Consulting

Yesterday, Uncle Joey asked me if I needed to get my car washed. Since I couldn’t remember the last time I’d washed it, I told him yes. He handed me a paper bag and told me to give it to the operator, who would in turn give me a free super-deluxe wash job.

I probably should have been a little worried because he told me not to look inside the bag. Naturally, I listened to his thoughts to find out what he was hiding. As a mind-reader, it’s hard for most people to keep a secret from me. But he put up his mental shields, and I couldn’t pick up a thing.

“For your own protection,” he said, “it’s better that you don’t know.”

“Fine.” I took the bag, along with the address, and drove to the car wash. I’d never been there before, and when I drove up, I found it was one of those old-time car washes, where you sit inside the car and watch while the machine goes through the wash and dry cycles.

The attendant came out, so I told him I wanted the super-deluxe wash, and handed him the paper bag. He seemed confused, so I told him that Manetto sent me. I raised my eyebrows up and down which finally did the trick. The attendant nodded vigorously, then glanced around to see if anyone was watching.

“Pull inside and stop when the light changes to red.”

Before I could say a word, he rushed back inside, leaving me on my own. So I did as he asked and drove inside the washing garage and stopped when the light turned red. I turned off the car, since this was the super-deluxe wash, and I might be here a while.

A moment later the doors on both ends of the garage came down, shutting me in, and the whirring motors began. A couple of machines sprayed down the car from the front, sides, and back. Then the biggest mop I’d ever seen began to spin, and started whipping at the front of the car, flapping against the windshield, and over the top and then to the back of the car.

Other whirring mops spun and came at the car from the sides, sending soapy splashes everywhere. The noise was louder than I liked, and I cringed every time one of the mops hit the windshield. Then came another spray and the process started all over again.

After the second time, I figured the wash was done, but it started up a third time. I knew I’d asked for the deluxe wash, but this was getting ridiculous. After the forth time, I was starting to get nervous. Was this ever going to stop?

Miraculously, all the mops pulled away and my hopes rose. Then a big blast of air blew down on the car, going from the front to the back several times. It was a relief when the dryers stopped, and I let out a sigh, ready to start my car and get out of there.

I watched the light, waiting with bated breath for it to turn green. After it still hadn’t changed, I wondered if I should honk my horn or roll down my window and start screaming to get the operator’s attention.

To my horror, the process started all over again, with the nozzle spray going over the whole car. The whirring mops began and traveled the length of the car, hitting the windshield with that awful thwapping noise, and sending soapy suds all over the place. What the freak?

It went through the whole cycle again, ending with the blowing dryers, howling around me. They finally stopped, and I held my breath for the light to turn green. The garage doors began to life and my hopes rose. Before opening all the way, they slammed back down and the whole process started over.

No! No! No! This was like an episode of the twilight zone. I picked up my phone and called Uncle Joey. “You’ve got to do something. This car wash is holding me hostage.” After I explained what was going on, Uncle Joey said he’d send Ramos and disconnected.

At last, the cycle ended, and I could hardly wait to get out of there. The garage doors slowly opened, and I let out my breath. As I drove out, I spotted Ramos waiting by the doors, a frown marring his handsome features.

I parked and jumped out, happy to see him. “Thanks for coming. What happened? Where’s the operator?”

“He’s gone, along with the bag. I think he must have set the car wash to cycle through a few times so he could get a head start.”

“Dang. I hope it’s not my fault.”

“Nah… I called the owner, and he’s on his way. We’ll find him and get the bag back.”

“What was in it anyway?”

Ramos smiled. “It’s better you don’t know.”

I shook my head, picking up that there was a large amount of money inside, one the operator couldn’t seem to resist.

“Oh… that’s what I thought.”

“Yeah. But we’ll get it back, so don’t worry.” He was thinking that the boss knew where the guy lived, so it wouldn’t be too hard to track him down. And, since he’d saved me again, it was totally worth it to see that look of adoration in my eyes. Even better, now i owed him one. He liked having me in his debt, and his devilish grin sent butterflies through my stomach.

“Uh… I don’t think this qualifies.”

His brows rose. “What? You don’t think saving you from a car wash qualifies?”

“Well… yeah, but—”

“No buts,” he said. “I saved you fair and square. Now… I’ve got to go, but I’ll be thinking about how you can pay me back.” With a saucy wink, he turned on his heel, and jumped onto his motorcycle. A few seconds later, he was gone.

After he left, I smiled, something I would never let him see. Sure… he was a big tease, but I had to admit that I enjoyed it. And, even better, my car was shiny and clean.

Still, I think that the next time it needs a wash, I’ll do it myself.