The little squirt

My first car was a beautiful metallic maroon 1973 Oldsmobile Cutlass that my parents gave me. That car was so sleek and rakish it could make anyone jealous. I know that sounds like I was excessively spoiled but in fact I was riding a bike on busy streets every day to the same job since I was 14. Why that is relevant is that I had kind of shamed my folks into believing I was reliable, responsible and would likely get killed more easily by a bus rolling over me on my bike than INSIDE my car.

Anyway, like all teens, that car became an extension of myself. Unfortunately my interests did not take to ordinary car modifications like cool chrome accessories and tinted windows. I instead chose to modify my window washer pump. It was not a big deal because all I had to do was simply reroute and add the windshield washer lines to the front grill of the car. So then, whenever I hit the windshield washer switch, the water that ordinarily would shoot on the windshield, now fired horizontally like nose-guns in a fighter jet. I only had to restrict the nozzle openings to achieve a very respectable 15 to 20 feet of water fire-power out the front of my car. I also set them at a 30 degree angle aiming upward so as to clear obstacles like bumpers and backs of cars.

As you can imagine, my new invention needed immediate testing so I drove up to the local Burger King and nosed the car into a space facing the front door and fired a full volley of water shots. I was visibly entertained like a circus simian as my car’s streams painted the entry window with little dots and streaks of water. Sadly a much bigger gorilla sized teen rounded the corner with a squeegee and bucket in hand, none too happy with my artwork so I immediately retreated out of the parking lot. Honestly I felt a little bad – but how was I to know that the big dumb monkey-boy had just cleaned the windows. I was a self-indulgent teenager – I thought ALL restaurants had clean windows by magic.

The car was generally a hit at school. On occasion I would use the little squirters to decorate the back of a car at a stoplight or somebody I thought I knew. That soon got challenging too however, especially when everyone always seemed to be inexplicably threatening me with bodily harm after a generous soaking. I never could figure out why as I was a responsible guy – not too spoiled or purposely mean. I was simply doing a public service by washing people’s windows for FREE. Doesn’t anyone believe in CHARITY anymore - I think they were all just jealous?