25 Cent Carwash

I was at my friends house late into the night playing video games and getting quite smashed when Ben showed up. He made some casual comment about the twenty-five cent carwash and I asked what he was talking about, after I realized everyone else thought it was funny, but me. “What’s the twenty-five cent carwash?” I asked. Everyone stopped talking and laughing and began making comments about how they couldn’t believe I had never heard of the twenty-five cent carwash. “What the hell could be so damn interesting about a carwash, even if it only costs twenty-five cents,” I thought to myself. “What’s the deal with this amazing carwash?” I asked sarcastically. “That’s it,” George bellowed, “Ben, take him to the carwash.” Ben agreed to go and so did I. They were making such a big deal about it I was getting curious.

We got about ten minutes outside the city and I began to think something was strange. Ben was probably just driving around looking for a big puddle to drive his car through and then he would demand that I give him a quarter. Knowing Ben that was definitely a possibility. While I’m thinking this the car suddenly stops. I look around and I don’t see very much. We’re on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere at three in the morning. To my right there was a chain link fence, and a building was set back about a hundred feet.
“Stay here, I’ll be right back,” Ben says and gets out of the car walking over to the chain link fence. He stops in front of a metal box with no markings. All that was on the front was a small slit. Ben fishes around in his pockets and pulls out a quarter. He puts it into the slot and then bolts like a maniac towards the car. He throws himself inside and slams the door. About a second later there’s a loud thud on the roof and water starts flowing everywhere. It’s loud, it’s hard, and is seemingly endless. After about five minutes it stops and I turn and stare at Ben.

We get out of the car and Ben puts another quarter into the slot. We run ten feet from the car and turn around to look at the onslaught. There’s a dull grey pipe about and inch or so around way above the car dumping water with some serious force, I was surprised it didn’t leave any dents on top of his car. Ben explains that it’s for filling irrigation trucks, and other farming equipment. “That’s great,” I thought “two decades of making sure the water was turned off while I brushed my teeth, so I would be doing my part, were completely blown for twenty-five cents worth of entertainment.” I haven’t slept very well ever since.

O.K. I got over it in about ten minutes, I never really listen to those damn hippies.