Two stories about my car.

I cleaned my car on Saturday.

First I’ll tell you about a discovery while cleaning. Then I will tell you the reason for the cleaning.

Story #1: A Discovery While Cleaning

My bestie Betsy was in town and we drove through the car wash. Deep conversation. A small bag of M&Ms. Paying a dollar extra for the undercarriage spray. You know, typical stuff.

And then we vacuumed.

[Let me tell you this nugget of history- I have driven my Toyota Camry for 8 years and 160,000 miles. That’s relevant here.]

[But you know I’ve never felt the need to only tell you “relevant” things.]

[Like it is not relevant that my steering wheel squeaks constantly in the winter and the air conditioner squeals loudly in the summer. But that’s funny, right? I think so.]

Anyways, back to the vacuum story.

When I pulled out the driver floor mat [aka- my floor mat, where my feet have pushed pedals for the majority of those 160,000 miles], there was a hole in it.

My right heel has worn a hole straight through it.

In the shape of India.

About the size of a half dollar.

I laughed, held it up to Betsy, and said, “Bets, check it out!” while looking at her through the little India half dollar hole.

And do you know what she called me?

Fred Flintstone.


Story #2: Here’s Why We Had To Clean The Car.

On December 16, a bunch of ladies went out to dinner for Marisa‘s birthday. I drove four of my friends. It was a rainy night so our friend Melissa brought her rain boots. We went out to dinner, then to see Andrew Ripp in concert [He killed. He’s one of the best.], then home. Melissa rode home with her roomies and left her boots in my car.

A few days later, my roomie Laura and I are riding around discussing the fact that my car smelled to HIGH HEAVEN. The rain boots. Lordy. They smelled.

But I kept meaning to give them back to Melissa, so I left them in my car.

The smell had an ebb and flow to it- some days, specifically the warmer ones, the car stunk like whoa. On the cold days, it was practically gone. [That’s relevant.]

Friday afternoon, almost one month after the boots moved into the Camry, I finally took them out to give to Melissa.

Wanna know why I had to clean my car?


Full. Of. Chinese. Food.

For. One. Month.

I am practically gagging just telling you about it.

And why the ebb and flow of nostril abuse? Because the food kept freezing and thawing.

[Okay, seriously. I did just gag there.]

So. You can obviously see now why I had to get my car washed. And vacuumed. And why there are now two dryer sheets in my car- one in the front and one in the back. Because if some smell is going to be allowed to mature in my backseat, I’d like it to be “fresh breeze” please. Not kung-pao chicken.

I’ve also posted a note for my backseat passengers in hopes of preventing this from ever happening again.

Dear friend,

Please do not leave food in my back seat. Apparently I am slow to identify and clean it out. And leftovers stuffed in rubber boots makes me gag.


Fred Flintstone

. . . . .

Sidenote: I’m headed to Scotland today. Whoa.

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