The Beat the Clock Car Wash

Just two dollars to wash my Explorer at the local car wash was a deal I could not pass up. So I’m in there dropping eight quarters in the slot before you can say, “Look at that dummy go!”
This particular car wash was designed as a concrete block “entertainment center” borrowing heavily from that old game show “Beat the Clock” because that’s exactly what you’re playing when that eighth quarter hits the slot.
I’m sure most people have no trouble getting their cars washed in eight quarters but for me it was a hard lesson in time management.
It starts with this dial feature that helps you see all the options available, as well as how much time you have left in which to do them. Without the dial I suppose you’d have no way of knowing what it is you’re supposed to be doing. Then you might have to put another eight quarters in the slot to get things right.

I should have read the dial first. The timer started with the eighth quarter and not with my finger on the sprayer. You hear this humming sound then look down at your flip flops, and the voice says, “You’re not going to make it.”
Having taken a speed reading course, I only spent a few seconds of my allotted three minutes surveying my shoes and the dial. Wash, wax, rinse, foaming brush, bugs, all these wonderful options were available for the mere two dollars. “Rinse” was near the 10 o’clock position so it took me a second to find it. You’d have thought “rinse” would be the first thing on the dial at the 1 o’clock position but… “Wash” was over that way too.

This anteater-beak-like apparatus is stuck in a tube and I grab it and begin to work my way around the truck. It has a long arm attached to a hose that manages to ensnarl itself around the rear view mirrors each time I pass and I have to make like Will Rogers doing a rope trick to get it off.
Time is of the essence here and by the time I perfect my first rope trick, 45 seconds runs off the clock. I go back to the dial and hit the “foaming brush” symbol, then run over to get the brush located on the far wall. Before all the foam runs down the drain this sucking sound greets me, sort of like the sound of money being sucked out of my pocket. The brush is loaded with nothing but air. It takes about 20 seconds to figure this out and then I streak back to the dial to find something, anything, that might work and make me feel better about those eight quarters.

I hit the “wash” symbol and the anteater jumps up like a fire hose gone awry in the street. Whipping this way and that it shoots hot soapy water all over the concrete blocks and I have become the thing being washed.
By now, the two dogs I left in the car are convinced it’s “bath time” and they’re so terrorized by the anteater the next “bath time” will require a visit from the “Dog Whisperer.” The windows are frothed with slobber, and the goo factory I brought in to be cleaned has yet to see soap.
This all takes about 20 seconds but finding the time to look at the time remaining requires time. I’ve got to get some soap on the truck before it’s too late.
I start at the hood and just when I think I might beat the clock with another rope trick, the beeper goes off and another voice says, “I’m sorry Mr. Harmon, you didn’t make it… but here’s a home version of the Beat the Clock Car Wash!” I drop the dogs off at “Barks and Bubbles” and rinse at the house.