The other morning, Herman decided that the motorhome needed a good washing. The coach, the car, and even our bicycles were covered in greasy roadspray from all the rain we had battled the last few days. So before we pulled out of Sulphur, Louisiana, he googled and found the number and location for Super Scrubs Carwash, 50 miles along our route, in Beaumont, Texas.
Could they handle a vehicle 40-feet long and over 13-feet high? Sure. We get buses here all the time. Come on.
We put the address for Super Scrubs in the GPS as a “via point” on our way to Houston. It was a warm, sunny day . . . the first in a week. We had a relatively easy drive planned. Why not?
Well, first of all, Super Scrubs was self-serve. But we are nothing if not determined, so Herman swung the whole circus train around the parking lot, pulled the motorhome into the Large Truck bay, and bought twenty dollars worth of tokens: two dollars for two minutes of soap and or water.
At about six dollars into the project, he discovered that the hose apparatus connecting the soapy brush on the passenger side of the bay was too short to come around and lather the driver’s side. And vice versa with the rinsing wand opposite.
But he perservered.
At fourteen dollars in, he was sweating, sopping, and sick of it. And he was only this far along . . .
At sixteen dollars down he decided to call it quits. At least the front of the coach looked great. The windshield sparkled.
We got back on the road and ran smack into a swarm of some sort of copulating insects. They resembled fireflies, black with orange spots. Instead of glimmering like magical lanterns, they were rutting like mad rabbits. Midair. In pairs. Oblivious in their passion, they splatted into the glass and stuck like tar. Conjoined. Dozens of them.
“Well I hope it was worth it,” I told them, as Herman and I peered through what was beginning to look like a big, obscene Rorschach test.
Herman laughed. What else could he do? We agreed to add self-serve carwashes with Large Truck bays to our growing list of never-agains.
That evening, when we arrived in Houston, we got out the extra dishpan and scrubbed the afterglow off the front of the coach with Dawn and nonscratch scouring pads. It didn’t cost us any tokens.
What kind of conversation starter can you do with a story like that? Have YOU ever run into a swarm of amorous insects? Ever washed your own motorhome? Been to Beaumont, Texas? Anything will work as far as I’m concerned. I’d just enjoy hearing from you. Please leave a comment.