After a really strange winter we got our cars cleaned, super duper and now after two weeks they’re so dusty in a garage we need to take them back. One person wrote on my husband’s car windshield to move it. I wrote back stop touching my car. In the end I can’t believe they didn’t say “clean me.”
We were on line at the car wash two weeks ago when it shut down. We had spent a while to advance to second in line so it took us a long time to get out of there as everyone behind us had to back up into a busy street. We were diverted to and found another facility a couple of miles away.
Yes, there was a song, way back, and I remember it for a reason. A college friend and I found ourselves en route home for the holidays. He was really cute but we had nothing in common except our college and home towns so we decided not to date. I was 18.
It was a four-hour trip that took nine hours because of snow on the tracks. A little girl sang “Workin’ at the Car Wash” all those hours and even when her voice was shot she kept going. That said, it is not the worst Amtrak trip I’ve had. That time, I was so happy to get off the train and be met by my family! My husband taunts me from time to time, especially on Amtrak, and starts singing the car wash song. No, Dear. I’ll get off the train before we depart. Just stop. He does, and we travel together. No car wash songs, please. Dee
Cooking with Dee 