Millennium Car Wash Hand Wash
I’m getting my car washed.
I’m getting my car hand washed.
At the Millennium Car Wash Hand Wash
On the corner of Lincoln and Venice.
It’s like biting into a York Peppermint Patty
And getting the sensation
Of passing through a tunnel of froth
While being rinsed off by robots
And padded down with a ShamWow Super Shammy.
It’s like picking up radio signals with your braces,
And using this feat to pick up girlie girls,
And then going to Fairplex Park
And picking the winning horse.
I’m observing robots through the glass
In the waiting area.
I’m taking the time to do it right
In the vibrating chairs.
I’m going to McDonald’s across the street.
Look at me! I’m…
I’m going to an ATM.
I’m taking out a twenty dollar bill
And breaking it into fivers, for tips.
I’m shaking my butt
on the corner of Lincoln and Venice
While my car is dried.
Dry it, dry it!
Dry it until the wheels fall off!
I’m coming back to the site of the drying.
I’m getting my interiors detailed.
There’s not one crumb of filth
On the passenger side.
Not any more.
Not any more, man!
I’m getting my keys returned courteously.
I’m eating eggs off of the hood of my car.
I’m smelling the leather again.
The ShamWow Super Shammy…