The tales of the Geneva Shore Report Uber driver.
How can any car wash throw out a car waiting to be washed? The classy car wash I took my Uber car to would not allow me to drive through. I’d come in after being out at the Country Thunder event over near the Kenosha County corner nestled on the Illinois state line. I didn’t take my rides into the mud. I didn’t pick them up in the mud. I made sure to have them walk out so I could park on a grassy area where other cars hadn’t worn it down to the soft moist earth below. The gravy brown muddy earth below.
It was my ride’s fault. It was late on Saturday night when I made the pickup. Lots of artificial light, and plenty of people and cars seemingly wandering almost aimlessly about the fields and muddy roads. I made it in for the pickup, and was happy with my position when I called them. They answered on the second ring. They were happy with my decision to hang back and away from the melee of the mess of an event further in. They got in for a trip into Milwaukee. It was a good ride, or would have been without the mud. A line of cars formed to travel the two runnels of mud worn down into the grass as we departed. A giant pickup was in front of us when my ride rolled a window down and screamed that the truck needed to pull over and get the hell out of the way.
It was one of those big trucks. The kind not so nice big guys, with little self-worth, seem to drive. Big guys with a lot of road rage contained within them, however. The giant truck stopped for half a minute and sat in front of us looking ominous. Then it’s tires started to spin. It was one of those big trucks with a giant engine. The tires spun faster and faster, and the rig began to throw mud back at us. There was no place to go so I had to sit and endure being covered by mud. When the truck finally pulled off the path and let us go by, my car had six inches of mud on it. My ride had gone silent.
Good thing. I got out of the Country Thunder mass of moving cars before stopping to clear a small part of my windscreen. I drove to my own home and tried to rinse the car so I could make it to Milwaukee. My ride and his girlfriend complained about the time. I ignored them. There was no tip after everything worked out. I hadn’t expected any. The car wash turned me away the next day. I had to go to the Mobil station and spray and wash it myself, leaving giant chunks of mud for someone else to clean up. I felt bad about that, but not as bad as I felt at being turned away from the ‘real’ car wash. Car washes should have to take every dirty car that comes in. It should be part of the definition of what they do, and also part of their permit handed over by the city. It is nice, though, that there is no rule about leaving layers of mud all over the floor of the self-wash place I had to use.