I pay a princely sum of money each year to belong to a car wash club. I pay the same amount for my wife to belong to the same club. No, there’s no secret handshake or special ritual that is required to belong to this club. But there are benefits. For starters, we get a nickel per gallon discount on our gasoline purchases. And, we receive discounts on a variety of different types of car washes. We’ve belonged to this club for a number of years and have generally believed that we receive good value. Once after a particularly poor bout with customer service I wrote one of my favorite Dr. Pistoph letters. The area manager sent me a very nice response and a couple of coupons for upgraded washes – good move.
But lately I’ve become P.O.’d about a pervasive injustice that plagues this chain of car washes. Here’s the Cliff Notes version. I usually buy my gasoline at these car washes once a week. Then I run my car through the wash bay. Except that by the time I finish filling up with gas there’s usually a line of cars from here to next Thursday. And guess what? Nearly every one of them drove right into the wash bay without purchasing gas. This is infuriating. Yes, yes, they are entitled to buy a car wash the same as the next guy. But how about giving us club members our own line so we don’t have to wait behind all of these interlopers?
I can just hear some of you snickering right now. “What a ridiculous piddling little thing to get worked up over,” you exclaim. Well I have an exclamation for you and it’s unprintable. You must understand that as we get older some of us (me in particular) have much less patience for what seems to us (me) as a lack of good old fashioned common sense. Why should I have to tell the 14 year-olds running the car wash that they should be more sensitive to their club members? After all, isn’t that what they’re paid $8.50 an hour to do? Oh, and by the way; that a-hole who cut in front of me the last time I visited the car wash is going to get a surprise the next time I see him. You know who you are. You refused to look at me after committing your dastardly deed. I have something for you. I’ll roll my window down and all you have to do is get within three feet of my car. Come on. Just a little closer . . .










