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1/20/2016

When to Wait

So I was on my way down to the gas station to hit up the 50 cent vacuum. I thought I had plenty of time, since I wasn't due at a work meeting for an hour or so. Well, I believed everything was all in order, and when I pulled into the gas station lot, I expected everything to go as smoothly as caramel syrup. Delicious. But then I noticed that a suspicious-looking girl was already parked next to the vacuum. I could hear the vacuum running, but she wasn't using it yet, which was strange.

Oh man, she was taking her time pulling out each floor mat one by one. Slowly, ever so slowly. Picture an injured turtle.

I decided to analyze her floor mats to size up my competition. They were filthy, covered in what looked to be straw. That's right, straw, like she had just fucked a scarecrow in that Chevy. I shrugged, figuring she'd be done soon.

Oh no, after the first five minute vacuum, she put in two more quarters for another round, scrubbing and scrubbing the floor mats.

Leaning back in the front seat of my car, I checked the time. Still okay, but it was getting a little tighter. Turning my head, I watched a few cars head into the car wash, wishing I was on my way through like them.

But Chevy girl was still going at it. Every now and then, she looked my way with her "day-after-walk-of-shame" enormous sunglasses on, but even then, she didn't hurry. That's right, she was picking off pieces of straw one by one while the vacuum was running. Maybe she was still a little loopy from the night before, I dunno, but it sure seemed like she was trying to clean up something dirtier than I could imagine. Actually, I could imagine it, but I'm not sharing.

Finally, she finished.

I hopped out of the car and asked, "You done?"

She looked up and said, "Yep, thanks!" Her face held a deep reddish hue, like blueberry tea.

Thanks? Thanks for what? For waiting and not complaining? Hell, she was there first. But I could tell that she felt bad for taking so damn long. From the look of her shredded, muddy jeans versus her makeup and shirt, which were still half-put together, I could tell she'd had a rough Saturday night or something. And I could also tell that her cleaning was more than cleaning. It was to cover up some other mess. I knew that "next day after the war" look. Just my guess. Or maybe she just got back from a four-hour long church service and had a roll in the straw with a preacher.

So I quickly finished vacuuming, and then I headed over to the car wash. I put the code in, and everything seemed to be running smoothly, but after "press the start button" began blinking, the screen went blank, and it read this:  "Sorry, the car wash is temporarily unavailable." Now, the problem was, I had already paid, I had already driven in halfway, and weirdly, I had just watched three cars glide right on through, no problem. So I backed out of the wash, which was tricky, and I went inside to ask them what the hell.

I explained my situation to the worker. He didn't know what to do, so he found another worker. He knew what to do, so he went outside and worked his magic, resetting the car wash, and I pulled in a second time. This whole process, between the vacuuming and the washing, took about an hour.

Then I had about fifteen minutes to get to my meeting. Thinking I was a smart go-getter, I decided to take the highway to cut out time. Right when I got on the highway, all cars came to a complete dead stop. I sat in traffic for about 45 minutes, barely moving. The whole scenario was strange -- it was a Sunday evening, sunny, and the traffic should've been light. Not so. Backed up for miles. It was getting later and later. The meeting had already started, so I just inched along the highway, listening to talk radio.

When I finally crept up to the scene of the accident, I saw a fire truck, a slew of police cars, and when I looked over on the side of the road, I could see a car resting in the woods. The entire top of the vehicle had been pried off to get the person (or people) out, and the car had obviously flipped over several times. I wondered about whoever was inside. I wondered if anyone was alive. I swallowed hard. Of course in my lifetime I've seen wrecks before. I've seen bad wrecks. But for some reason, this one -- that lone, empty, destroyed white car in the woods -- really terrified me. What grabbed at my heart was the eerie scene's stillness. There was no sign of life. And it terrified me because I suddenly realized that if it weren't for the slow vacuum girl, the malfunctioning car wash, and my long waits at the gas station, one of the people that they pried out of the wreckage could've been me.

I shivered a little, driving on, thinking about angels. I made it to the tail end of the meeting, and I realized that my time is now. As for the setbacks, the happenings that seemed like delays? Perhaps they saved my life. We've all heard people say, "Live each day as if it's your last." Aye, swallow it all, bite at the beauty, and allow the universe to show you when to lean back and wait.

C.A. MacConnell