Shocked!

Today on the way home from work I decided that the mud splatters on the windshield just had to go. Besides, the Empty Light came on, who knew when. It was time to stop.

The service station up near my clinic satelite wasn't in a very nice part of town. But no matter. It was a brand new Shell station. They even had television screens broadcasting news and other interesting factoids, right over the pumps outdoors! Very cool. I pumped my gas and paid for a carwash. Excellent. I'd get the Deluxe--wash, wax, anti-drop whatever-it-was for the windshield, and then a good drying. It cost me only $7.95--more than I'd pay to do the job at home, but much less than a hand wash job at $16.95. Excellent value.

I drove around the back side of the brand new building, holding the gas receipt in one hand, trying to find the carwash code on it. Oh--there it was, right up at the top. There was a nifty little kiosk with a lovely man's voice speaking out of it when I pulled up. "Enter your code followed by the pound sign. Then pull up to the entrance of the carwash and wait for the light to indicate that you may proceed." I entered my code: 299536, and rolled up the window as I crept up to the entrance. A car was inside, getting a good washing. Suds were flying and all sorts of whirling cloth pieces were flailing against the top and sides of a little red car. They appeared to be getting the Deluxe Wash, too. I took the opportunity to unscrew the antenna and carefully put it on the front seat. Dvorak's "Going home, going home, I'm a-going home..." was playing on the radio. The sign said to turn off your radio, so I said goodbye to Dvorak. The car was sure taking a long time inside. It stayed under the blower almost the entire minute--just sat there. Then took off.

I drove into the place. A mirror-level flashing neon sign advised me to back out immediately. Hmmmm. Wonder why. I backed out, around the little curved entrance, and sat there. The Proceed light was turned off and even the red Stop light was now off. Nothing lit up. What's going on? Maybe I hadn't entered the code right. I backed up even more and entered it again. I'm glad no one is behind me. The man in the machine said, "This is an invalid code. Please go inside for help." Go inside, nothing. I pressed the Help button. The man's voice rang out again, "Please go inside for help."Doggone it!

I wondered if the man in the car ahead of me had been simply sitting there waiting for some unsuspecting person to enter their code so he could get a free carwash. Who would do such a thing? Especially in broad daylight?

I backed up through the entire curving entry lane--angry, fuming out loud. Could it be that this jerk ahead of me had ripped me off and did me out of $7.95? Or was it broken? What kind of a place was this and what kind of brazen criminality went on around here?

I parked the car right in front of the clerk's window and jumped out, slamming the door hard. My face must have looked pretty mean, because the little girl behind the counter shrank back from me.
"That carwash doesn't work!" I said angrily.
She looked at my receipt and told me to wait right there for a minute. Turning to get the manager, she said, "Are you sure you didn't already wash your car?"
"Now why would I want to wash my car twice! Look outside the window--that's my car, right there. Does that look clean to you, or even wet?"
I didn't give her a chance to respond. "No. It's dry and filthy."
She looked disinterestedly toward the window, her eyes never focusing on my car.
"I'll be right back," she said quietly.

I was so mad. Would I have to face off now with the manager over a stupid carwash? How could a brand new station have a faulty carwash?
Here came the manager--someone who looked very different than I do. He probably has a thick accent and is a tightwad.
"Miss," he said. "I think someone else got your carwash. It's not broken, you know." He had a very sweet face and kind voice.
My shoulders drooped. I couldn't get angry at such a nice man. I had been taken--it was that simple.
"Oh." That was all I could muster.
He smiled very kindly and said, "But I will give you a carwash. Do not worry. I will give it to you. Go outside and around the back again and I will do it for you."
I couldn't thank him enough. He was smiling and I felt tremendous relief as I drove around the back of the station into the carwash. There he stood, manually entering a code into a little remote control he had. He turned, smiled and waved at me, and went inside. I drove into the tire guides and sat back while the whirling cloth pillars whizzed over the car.

I had taken the meanness of the person who stole my carwash straight in to the clerk, depositing all my hostility onto her. But in one moment, the kindness of the manager made everything dissipate.

I had been surprised that I had felt such anger over such a small thing. Sure, it bugs me that people try to get away with anything they can. But I had been in a hurry, racing across town to my next appointment. So many demands, so little time, such great responsibility. I'm in such a bind time-wise right now, up at 5:00 a.m. to work on my online class and bringing home work to get done until 10:30 at night. I have felt like a pressure cooker.

Then this man's small kind gesture. It really turned the tide for me. Someone else in the world was responsible, kind, gracious, and all the things that we would hope to find in a good person. He was as good as the crooked car owner in the carwash was.
A Bible verse sounded in my mind: "A soft answer turneth away wrath."
So does a kind deed.