Vacuum Wars

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Today I stopped to vacuum out my van. I know, THE HORROR! And since it’s been bout 3 months since the last time I graced the vacuum place with my presence… well you can imagine.

The only place I could think of that was close to my house is in an area that is a wee tad scetchy. Ok, it’s actually a lot of scetchy. But it was close, and I had time, so I figured what the heck. Lets do it.

As I plopped my quarters into the machine, turned on a dvd for the kids to watch, and started sucking up a thick layer of who knows what, I thought to my self, what if someone tries to car jack me? I began going through mental negotiations, ok you can have my car, but let me take my kids out. I’m going to need a stroller, too, so that I can walk home- oh, and did you want the bar of solid gold I keep in my trunk? Here, let me show you where it is… right under this floor mat that the Adventurer puked all over! Ah-ha! And then I would thrust it in their face and make a run for it. (hmm… I need to blog about that floor mat…)

But, I wasn’t to worried about car jackers, even though my line of sight was blocked by two rows of stow-and-go seating and tinted windows, because I have a three-pronged-anti-car-jacking-theory.

1. Make eye contact and smile at everyone who walks by like they are your best friend. (this also works when my momma-driving-skills piss people off on the interstate, but in that instance it also includes a big wave and a “tell your mother I said hello!” expression. I figure it is hard to shoot someone your mother just might know…)

2. I haven’t done a very good job with keeping up with my “thug facts” recently, but unless the recession is really hitting them hard, and gangsters are having to start carpooling to their hits, I don’t think that they are to interested in mini-vans. Especially ones equipped with infant seat, toddler seat, child seat, and what appears to be the remnants of a 7-layer-bean-burrito.

3. It was 8:20 in the morning. I could be mistaken, but I’m pretty sure that 8 am to a car-jacking-thug is the equivalent to 3 am for me.

So I figured that unless an early rising, over-achieving, recession affected thug, who rolled with two midget ganstas and a baby with a preference for day-old-mexican food in his posse, happened to be strolling by at that very moment, with his momma who verified that she indeed did not know that crazy woman smiling and waving like an idiot, I was good.

My three minutes of rapid suctioning quickly expired, and having run out of quarters before I ran out of crumbs, I hopped back into my van, and turned the engine on.

At least I tried to turn the engine on.

There was some sputtering, some crazy clicking, and two little boys yelling, “Hey, we wanted to see Lightning McQueen race Doc! Turn the movie back on mom!”

And I have to say, when you are vacuuming your car in the ghetto, with your hind-side hanging out a sliding door, it is much less intimidating than when you are stuck in a parking lot, having to witness the ghetto. A call to Brandon, to my mom, and to Geico Road-Side service, made sure that if I was car-jacked, I had a triangulation of help coming from three different sides. And then I started wondering how I would explain to super thug that he was welcome to my vehicle, but he was going to have to give me a jump first.

And then I was really embarrassed that I hadn’t washed my van before I vacuumed it, because now the tow-guy was going to see how dirty it was on the outside.

15 minutes later, Brandon shows up, checks the oil, turns the key, and starts the car. Unbelievable. The tow-guy rapidly pulls into the parking lot shortly afterward, and tells me that he is going to follow me out of the lot because, “this is a really bad part of town,” and I’m like, “well I only live 5 minutes from here so you’re making me kinda nervous…” And of course my mom showed up right after him, so by that time, I was wondering how anyone could even pull into the wash to work on their own car, because MY posse had already filled up all the spaces.

The moral of this really long story?

ALWAYS wash your car BEFORE you vacuum it. That way, if it dies, at least it’ll be shiny when you call a tow-truck.

And smile at gangsters. I think. I actually only saw really nice people. I think the thugs were still sleeping off some good times.

Salud! H

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