wax on
There are many luxuries which I do not allow myself to enjoy often. Carwashes are one of them. My parents instilled this in me. They taught me to love frugal conveniences. The garden hose drawn out onto the driveway like a skinny, water-spitting snake; the rags draped on the rim of a bucket filled with soap; the countless pennies saved by not going to a carwash, even the chintzy kind--automatic and attached to the side of a gas station. Once, I thought about creating a hip-hop video out of my chore. Perhaps a bikini and short shorts for my own amusement, I thought. Let's see what the neighbors say. Mother quickly poo-pooed the idea. Understand that I don't love washing my car. I do it because I'm that kind of girl. I'm that oversized t-shirt wearing daughter of immigrants kind of girl. The executives at my office are not this kind of girl.
Every Tuesday, a company that specializes in car detailing arrives with an army of men who wash the BMWs and Mercedeses and Lexuses and Range Rovers that occupy the special parking spaces reserved for the big swinging dicks. Each detail is $27.50 which includes a wash, a wax and a vacuuming of the interior. The boys do a great job. They are car detail oriented and each vehicle is impeccably clean at the end of the day. They work hard and what they earn in a day, our executives spend on a single business lunch.
One of the main men is from El Salvador and every Tuesday, he comes up to the executive offices and collects the many keys and alarm button doodads. I chat with him, ask about his daughters, his life, his general state of being. He's a short man, very round with a shaved head and a tough expression. But inside, he is sweet and kind. He always notices when I have fresh flowers on my desk. One time I gave him a scented lavender bloom and he brought it to his nose and smiled.
My boss was out of town this Tuesday and I parked in his reserved space. When El Salvador came up to collect keys, he asked if I wanted to have my car washed. I told him that I didn't have a problem with it every once in a while when I've cleared it with my boss (since he pays for it) but, on this particular day, I didn't think it was necessary or a good use of their time. My car wasn't that dirty and I proudly told him that I wash my own car. We chatted for a bit about the rigamarole of the duty which has become his defacto profession. We talked about Easter and his family and his living situation. It doesn't matter that we are different, we both wash cars and we both struggle to make our place in the world.
Later that day, as he returned the keys to newly cleaned cars, he stopped by my cubicle and said "I left you a surprise." I thanked him. I was hoping it was a flower or a cookie but was entirely happy with the gesture. When I left the office that evening, I found the exterior of my car washed and waxed. I drove home a very happy girl. A very grateful girl. When people are generous with their time, they create joy that makes the world seem shiny and happy. At least this car and driver were.
Every Tuesday, a company that specializes in car detailing arrives with an army of men who wash the BMWs and Mercedeses and Lexuses and Range Rovers that occupy the special parking spaces reserved for the big swinging dicks. Each detail is $27.50 which includes a wash, a wax and a vacuuming of the interior. The boys do a great job. They are car detail oriented and each vehicle is impeccably clean at the end of the day. They work hard and what they earn in a day, our executives spend on a single business lunch.
One of the main men is from El Salvador and every Tuesday, he comes up to the executive offices and collects the many keys and alarm button doodads. I chat with him, ask about his daughters, his life, his general state of being. He's a short man, very round with a shaved head and a tough expression. But inside, he is sweet and kind. He always notices when I have fresh flowers on my desk. One time I gave him a scented lavender bloom and he brought it to his nose and smiled.
My boss was out of town this Tuesday and I parked in his reserved space. When El Salvador came up to collect keys, he asked if I wanted to have my car washed. I told him that I didn't have a problem with it every once in a while when I've cleared it with my boss (since he pays for it) but, on this particular day, I didn't think it was necessary or a good use of their time. My car wasn't that dirty and I proudly told him that I wash my own car. We chatted for a bit about the rigamarole of the duty which has become his defacto profession. We talked about Easter and his family and his living situation. It doesn't matter that we are different, we both wash cars and we both struggle to make our place in the world.
Later that day, as he returned the keys to newly cleaned cars, he stopped by my cubicle and said "I left you a surprise." I thanked him. I was hoping it was a flower or a cookie but was entirely happy with the gesture. When I left the office that evening, I found the exterior of my car washed and waxed. I drove home a very happy girl. A very grateful girl. When people are generous with their time, they create joy that makes the world seem shiny and happy. At least this car and driver were.
posted by Katie at 8:33 AM
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