Washing my ride with a big bucket of soapy water and a hot pink sponge makes me feel like a man. To pleasure any on-looking females I make sure to grease up my entire body and wear clothing that displays my world class package to its best advantage. My car washing outfit consists of acid washed blue jeans cut off so high that the whites of the pockets are visible, a pair of white patent leather slip-on dress shoes and a smile. To my amazement, this outfit has yet to land me any ass.
Soapy water pours over my greased up naked torso as I make eye contact with Ms. Rottencrotch. While preparing my equipment to start washing my magnificent ride I am consumed with an overpowering sense of fear and impending doom. My head pops up and I scan the area like a deer that has sensed a predator in its mist. At first glance the area appears to be safe, yet for some divine reason my head is pulled further upward and I am forced to make eye contact with my sex-fiend of a landlady, Ms. Rottencrotch. Her appearance is that of a banshee; she has a half-smoked cigarette hanging from her overly-Botoxed lips and her hideously nappy purple wig is hanging half way off of her head. She sits perched in her window like a bird of prey staring at her next meal, waiting for her opportunity to attack. My gag reflex kicks in as I notice that she has one ass cheek hanging out of the window frame and the other inside her apartment. The mere sight of this magnificent beast is obscene.
Her hungry eyes give me the uncomfortable feeling that she is undressing me. For a second I am fearful for my safety. I think I catch her mouthing to me that she will have me someday soon, whether I like it or not. Due to her massive size I conclude that she could if she wanted to. The thought of being sexually violated by this beast chills me deep. Self-preservation kicks in and I quickly determine that I may need to start carrying mace. I need to protect myself from this behemoth. I can't let her take what is not hers without a fight.
Turning my back on the horribly offensive sight, I ponder ways to decrease any chance of experiencing car washing boredom. A light goes off over my crotch. I decide to tease this beast of a woman. "Let her see what she can never have," I devilishly say to myself. Opening my car door, I crawl in. I make sure to stick my spectacular ass as high into the air as humanly possible and sway side to side to further bait the hook. The only thing that would complete this picture is blasting music–sexy music. Rifling through my music case I find the perfect song and artist for this perilous mission: "Sexual Healing" by Marvin Gaye. As the song begins to play I experience a massive surge of confidence; this song will definitely help to accentuate my inner slut. The music pumps as I exit my vehicle and start the show.
I submerge the sponge deep into my bucket and then lift it above my head. As I make eye contact with Ms. Rottencrotch, I squeeze. Soapy water pours over my greased up naked torso. Maybe the luscious sight of my sudsy body will hold her over for a while. Maybe she will stop confronting me in the hallway and asking me if I would prefer to work off the rent instead of paying in cash.
As bubbles run down my face I throw Ms. Rottencrotch a glance that says, "Look at what you can't have, skank," but what my eyes really say is, "Holy fuck, what kind of a dumb ass shithead would pour industrial strength soap into his eyes to tease a dirty old lady?" They burn with the intensity of a blowtorch; the pain is too much to handle. The sudden onset of this torturous sensation brings me to my knees. I fear my eyeballs may dry up and fall out of my head. To my amazement the plan of teasing my landlady has horribly backfired on me. Instead of looking like a sex kitten from a hot rod magazine, I have regressed to a greasy, half-naked man rolling on the ground, writhing in pain, pitifully attempting to save his sight.
The fear of permanent blindness almost forces me to scream out for help but I can't. Burning and beaten I try to remember the first aid training I received at work relating to cases of eye injury. And then it hits me: wash the contaminants out of your eyes with water. Without thinking I grab the only source of water within crawling distance. I frantically rise to my knees and invert the bucket over my open and eager eyes. As I fall to the ground I experience a form of pain that I believe could possibly rival childbirth. I don't know exactly how much pain a woman would experience pushing a baby out of her vagina but I do know how much pain one experiences when dumping five gallons of industrial strength soap directly into their eyes. I think the two may be close.
As the agony takes hold of my soul, I do what any horny dick in my shoes would do: I pray for help from my messiah, Mary's Ass. I wait patiently for relief and like usual my prayers go unanswered. In between waves of searing pain I am able to focus my thoughts. I begin to dread the possibility that I may have blinded myself. The fear of permanent blindness almost forces me to scream out for help but I can't. I am a man and I dare not show any weakness in front of the on-looking gargoyle perched on the side of the building. In order to save face and further project my manly persona I stop rolling around crying like a baby. I pick my sorry ass up off the ground, pretend like nothing has happened, and continue to wash my car.
It takes me longer than usual to detail my ride now that I'm half blind, but I think I still did a great job. As I clean up my equipment I am greeted by my next door neighbor Ramon. He vigorously shakes my hand and thanks me for washing his car. My head drops and all I am able to say is, "You're welcome. I'm here to please."