At The Car Wash

Identifying people by something they do (or don’t do) is just one of those things that people tend to do, and I’m no different. Instead of their names, I could identify close friends as Wrestling Fan, Mini Driver, World of Warcraft Player, Quiet Guy, and Dude That Enjoys Killing People In Videogames Just A Little Too Much. You know who you are.

One unfortunate habit that I have acquired is that I do not wash my car on a regular basis. When your friends constantly see the layers of dust covering your vehicle, you soon become known as “Guy Who Never Washes His Car.” This has been my moniker for years back home, however I didn’t realize that it had followed me up to my new home until last Saturday.

A friend of mine was coming over to visit for the first time, and I provided directions. The last instruction being: “Look for my red Dodge Neon.” I figured this was simple enough, at least in the first month of living there, I had never seen another red Dodge Neon. The apartment was stuffy, so I decided to open the balcony door to let some air in while I did some vacuuming.

As I am doing this, I look outside and see my friend parking his truck just outside of the building. Great, I think, he’ll be knocking on the door pretty soon. I continue cleaning but hear no knock on the door. “Why hasn’t he knocked yet?” I wonder. I check outside and see the truck is no longer there. As I am pondering this turn of events, my cell phone rings, its my friend: “Hey, did you wash your car?” he asks, to which I reply yes.

I then asked if he had parked a few minutes earlier. He said yes, but he had decided that apparently the Neon was SO clean he assumed it was not mine and kept on looking for a red “covered in dirt” Neon which he did not find. Jerk.

It is now official, I am now “Guy Who Never Washes His Car.” Again.

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