Goodbye trippy little window man

Everyone who regularly rides in my car or gazes upon it will be happy to note my baby's been washed and waxed. Cleaned inside and outside. Al, a nice Vietnam vet who washes cars in the office parking lot and makes friendly conversation with all the employees, did an absolutely fantastic job for $25. When I see him, he's getting a Christmas bonus.

I'm just kind of sad he washed the windows. He had no way of knowing the trippy window art was so special to me that I'd left it up there for two years. (Speaking of which, he must've had to really scrub to get that stuff off. Two years of paint baking in the sun?) It feels like the end of a vehicular era or something. I bet the meanie parking lot attendant is happy. Sometimes I'll catch him in the parking lot writing tickets for one of my coworkers, and he'll say in that I-sound-like-I'm joking-but-I'm-really-not voice, "When you gonna wash yer windows? I'll do it fer free." (Hurmph.)

I don't know why, but seeing my car look so normal makes me kind of lonely. Maybe one of my Very Kind and Thoughtful friends will get a package of Crayola Window Markers and redecorate the windows for me as a Christmas surprise (hint hint hint).

But, yeah, the car is clean. It looks fantastic. I'd be happy to ride in the no-longer-trashy back seat, but I'm usually driving. Funny how that works out.