I Feel So Dirty

It has been pretty slushy here recently, but today marks the first day in a while when the roads were relatively dry and you could drive without getting too much crud on the car. It is supposed to get colder and perhaps snow again in a couple of days, so it was the perfect day to wash the car.

I am not one of those that has his car detailed or washes it so often that the paint wears off. I just like to get the worst of the muck and mire off. I prefer to wash the car on the street in front of the house, but in the winter it is more pain in the ass than fun. Louise takes her car to one of those touch less car washes and pays far more than a car wash is worth in my opinion. No, I go to one of those wand car wash places and for a buck or two you can get the car spick and span. I used to be able to wash the car for one dollar, but either I am getting slower or the time that you are given for a dollar is getting less.

 

Anyways, I went to the wash place, waited for about five minutes and drove into the bay with my rubber gloves and a pocket full of loonies. It took one loonie for the soap cycle and one loonie for the rinse cycle, which left it pretty clean. I left the car wash and drove down the street to the Tim Horton’s for a coffee to reward myself. On the way, a very strange thing happened. A cigarette butt appeared on the hood of the car. I know it wasn’t there when I left the car wash and I hadn’t stopped on the way. Unless it dropped from an airplane, then it magically appeared on the hood.

I’m pretty sure it didn’t drop from a plane, because you aren’t allowed to smoke on planes these days and none of the windows open for you to toss it out. I suppose that you could flush it out, but it would be covered in blue ice and this just wasn’t. That only leaves magic. I believe in magic for the most part, but there is normally some reason for performing magic. Things like entertaining a Vegas audience, amazing people walking along the street or feeding a multitude. Rarely is magic done for a guy in a car driving to have a coffee. What would the point be? Most people wouldn’t even notice it before it blew off. It didn’t by the way. Blow off that is.

I suppose the magician might be hoping that fame would come his way when I wrote about it on my blog. How would the guy know I had a blog? Yes, I suppose that if he were a really good magician he would know, but if he were good enough to know I wrote a blog he would know that almost no one reads the damned thing. Maybe he’s good enough to know that a lot of people are going to read it in the future and this is just a part of some more elaborate trick. Sounds like a stupid trick to me. The magic cigarette butt is pretty impressive though.

I managed to make it to Tim’s without acquiring any more cigarette butts, but when I got out I had to get the butt off of the car, didn’t I? I reached out with two fingers and pinched like it was a piece of dog shit and kind of flicked it off of the hood. I don’t know who the magician was, but there was far too much saliva on the butt for him to be a regular smoker. I am still weirded out by the affair and can’t seem to get my two fingers clean enough. 

I feel so dirty! Maybe I can get clean in the car wash...