January 3, 2011--Snowbirding: Rub-A-Dub
It was New Year’s morning and we thought it a good time to wash the car. “It would be virtuous,” I said.
No,” Rona said, “It has nothing to do with virtue. We’re picking your mother up later today and you know how much she likes a clean car.”
“So, it will be twice as virtuous,” I said, “For her as well as the car.”
“This, I suppose, is what goes for New Year’s Day humor,” Rona needled me. She is never at her best before 9:30 AM, especially after being out late the night before, and I have to be careful with any attempt to make her laugh. “But however you want to look at this is fine with me,” Rona said without real annoyance, “Just as long as we find that place, Scrub And Bubble, or whatever it’s called, along US 1, assuming they’re open, and get the car washed. How long has it been?”
“A few weeks at least,” I said, “And you’re right, with all the salt in the air from being near the ocean, we should wash it regularly.”
As we were going back and forth about this, we approached the Rub-A-Dub carwash on Federal Highway. “It looks as if they’re open. Though no one is lined up waiting for a wash, which means it won’t take us very long.”
“It’s not even 10 o’clock New Year’s morning,” Rona said, this time with a voice tinged with annoyance. “Everyone’s still asleep except us. You had to wake me early because you wanted breakfast, which I couldn’t believe considering how much you ate and drank last night.”
“It wasn’t that much,” I lied. The food was wonderful and I indulged myself. “You know me, I get up early, the same time every day no matter when we go to bed.”
“If we’re ever going to get divorced it won’t be for adultery but for your getting me up before the crack of dawn. I would tell the judge that it’s a special form of mental cruelty.” She leaned over to kiss me to make sure I realized she wasn’t being serious. At least not that serious.
I had pulled into the carwash and one of the workers was directing us toward the entrance to the shed that housed the washing apparatus. “Happy New Year,” he said, “What can I do for you this beautiful morning? An interior and exterior cleaning?”
“Just a wash,” Rona said, seeing it cost $5.00 extra for them to do the floor mats. “We clean the inside ourselves.”
“In that case, it will be $7.00.”
“That’s fine,” Rona said, “Let me get the money for you.”
“No, you don’t pay me,” he said with a broad smile, “I give you this ticket and you pay inside.”
Rona by them was out of the car and I continued to inch it toward the track that would pull it into the tunnel and through the rotating brushes. “I see you’re having a Saturday special,” Rona said pointing toward a sign. “For $39.95 you do a hand waxing and it includes an exterior wash as well as an interior cleaning? That would cost, let me do the arithmetic, $12.00—seven plus the five--so if I subtract that from $39.95, what would that then be?” She was using her fingers to help with the calculations.
“Precisely $27.95,” he said triumphantly with a melodious island accent. “A very good price for the waxing if I may say so.”
Rona looked over to me. “We’ve been wanting to get the car detailed—though why they call it that, detailed, I’ll never know—so maybe as a treat to the car for the new year we should do it. No?”
“I’m sure that if the car doesn’t thank us,” I shot her a wink, “my mother will. As you said, she loves a well-taken-care-of car. So let’s do it,” I said to the attendant as I tossed him the key. “You only live once, right?”
“You said it, sir. I feel certain you will like the work we do. We have very good boys here.”
And with that he retrieved the ticket he had given us for the exterior wash and handed us a new one for the hand waxing, which he again reminded us included both an interior and exterior cleaning and all together would save us $12.00. “It will help pay for breakfast,” Rona said. It was my turn to kiss her.
We were directed to the cashier who was located in quite a nice facility—two flat screen TVs were affixed to the wall and in a semicircle facing them were a half dozen leather armchairs and coffee tables stacked with neat piles of magazines and newspapers. We could sit there and wait while watching either ESPN or Fox News while reading Time, USA Today, or Maxim. All reminders that we were indeed in Florida.
Ignoring these for the moment I followed Rona to the cashier who was an immaculately groomed young man.
“And what can I do for you today?” he asked all chipper. “I hope you are already having a very happy 2011.” Rona muttered “Happy New Year” and passed him the bill we had been given by the attendant.
“Ah, I see you are taking advantage of our Saturday morning special. A hand waxing. If I do say so myself,” he was very tall even hunched behind the counter but when he straightened his shoulders in pride he towered over us, “we provide this service without the need to make an appointment and it only takes a half hour to get the job done. So I assume you will be waiting.” We nodded.
“We have TV here, as you may have already seen, and a coffee machine over there by the window.” He pointed. “You can sit there as well, by the window, and watch the boys work on your car. Feel free of course to go outside. They don’t mind owners watching them at work. Actually, I think they rather like it. In addition to making your car sparkle they put on a good show.”
“Inside will be fine,” I said. “I can catch up on the news and USA Today. I only see that when we’re traveling.”
“We try to make you feel at home here. But I see you have your own paper with you. Which is very fine with us. Feel free to read anything you like. And of course avail yourself of all the coffee you’d like. No extra charge for that. It’s our pleasure to make you feel welcome.”
“Thank you,” Rona said, “but we already had our coffee. In fact we’re coming from Luna Rosa. They’re open on New Year’s day.”
“So you’re out bright and early,” he said all bubbly.
“Married to him,” Rona gestured toward me, “there is no choice. If it were up to me we’d still be sleeping.
“But as long as you get here by 12:00 o’clock on Saturdays you can get the hand wax special. You save quite a bit.”
“Yes, we calculated that already,” I said.
“And another thing,” he said, “I see you have the New York Times with you? Did you buy that in town?” I indicated that we had. “The best thing about that paper,” and I suspected he wasn’t referring to the Times’ editorials, is that today, January 1st, it costs less. Did you notice that?”
“Can’t say that I did,” Rona said, “I paid my usual two dollars for it.”
“I mean the tax. It went down as of midnight. From 6½ percent to 6 percent, which I love,” he added, “taxes going down. So that means—let me see,” he was punching keys on a large calculator, “that rather than $2.13, which is what to would have cost you on Friday, today it cost ‘only’” he made quotation marks in the air, “’only’ $2.12. It’s only 9:45 New Year’s Day and already you’re saving money! Of course, including right here where you are taking advantage of the hand wax special. You are saving—let me see . . .”
“Twelve dollars,” Rona said before he could finish punching the keys. “We already figured that out. But thank you, yes, for pointing this out to us.”
“Do you also get the Sentinel?”
“The what?” I asked.
“The local paper. The Sun Sentinel.”
“Not regularly,” I said, “We pretty much only read the Times. It’s expensive I know but . . .”
“Worth it,” he completed my sentence and was grinning at us. “I asked about the Sentinel because if you had a copy I could show you that there’s a coupon in it that would save you an additional 10 percent. Let’s see, that would be another $4.00. We round the number up so that’s why it’s $4.00 and not $3.99. Which would be an even better deal.”
“Very impressive,” Rona said.
“But since you never had a hand wax with us,” I looked out the window and they had brought our car over where a team of three men had already begun to work on it, “As an introductory offer I am authorized to give you the same discount even though you do not have a coupon with you.”
“That’s very nice of you,” Rona said.
“Actually, I cannot take credit for that; it’s thanks to Rub-A-Dub. It’s their policy. Which I am happy to carry out. Especially since you seem to be very nice people. In fact, in addition, are you members of the Rub-A-Dub Club?”
“The what?” I asked.
“Our club.”
“Why should we be?” Rona asked.
“Well, among other things, in addition to getting our monthly Rub-A-Dub Newsletter, which is full of helpful car care information, it contains additional discount coupons. And, as members you get a free car wash on your birthdays, which means that unless the two of you were born on the same day,” he chuckled at that thought, “you get two free car washes a year. Of course you have to show your drivers license to confirm that it is in fact your birthday. And then after every ten washes you get one free.
We were feeling a little overwhelmed by all this generosity. Sensing that he said less buoyantly, “I know this is a lot to take in but, as members, you get another five percent off on hand wax weekend specials.”
“Amazing,” Rona exclaimed. “With all these discounts how do you, I mean Rub-A-Dub make money?”
“The owners feel that if you are satisfied with our prices, our service, and most of all the quality of our work you will come more frequently and as a result we’ll all do well. Don’t you agree?”
Clearly Rona did as she was well into filling out the application form to join the club.
Taking note of that, the cashier said, “Since you are about to be members of the Rub-A-Dub Club I am authorized to give you that extra five percent discount, which means that your total savings today will be . . .”
Without looking up, Rona said, “I don’t need to know that. It’s almost going to be free.” We joined her in smiling. “Just tell me what we owe you so I can pay. We need to get underway to pick up Steven’s mother.”
“Let me see just what that is.” He again punched numerous keys on his calculator. “If I did this properly, this time not rounding up the number, which is to your advantage, that comes to just $33.95.” He turned the calculator dial to us so we could see the number. Rona nodded and handed him her credit card.
“And of course, as we already discussed, the hand wax also includes an exterior wash and an interior cleaning, which would have cost you, if you had asked us to do just that, $12.00. So you can think of that as a savings as well.”
“That is amazing,” I said. Again I looked out the window and saw that four men, in a flurry of activity, were now working on the hand polishing of our car. They were almost done and it was already glinting in the morning sunlight.
“And of course don’t forget that you’ll also be saving on sales tax, which we unfortunately are required to charge. Last weekend the tax on $33.95 would have been $2.21; today it’s only $$2.04. You’re saving real money. Add that to the penny you saved on the Times and . . .”
“We really need to go,” Rona said, interrupting. She passed him the completed form. “It has been quite a pleasure. Really. Thank you.”
“And you’ll notice,” he called to us as we hurried toward the door and our gleaming car, “on the inside of your windshield you will find a clear plastic sticker. If you leave it there and come back in less than six months for a hand wax—on a Saturday morning of course—you’ll save an additional . . .”
No,” Rona said, “It has nothing to do with virtue. We’re picking your mother up later today and you know how much she likes a clean car.”
“So, it will be twice as virtuous,” I said, “For her as well as the car.”
“This, I suppose, is what goes for New Year’s Day humor,” Rona needled me. She is never at her best before 9:30 AM, especially after being out late the night before, and I have to be careful with any attempt to make her laugh. “But however you want to look at this is fine with me,” Rona said without real annoyance, “Just as long as we find that place, Scrub And Bubble, or whatever it’s called, along US 1, assuming they’re open, and get the car washed. How long has it been?”
“A few weeks at least,” I said, “And you’re right, with all the salt in the air from being near the ocean, we should wash it regularly.”
As we were going back and forth about this, we approached the Rub-A-Dub carwash on Federal Highway. “It looks as if they’re open. Though no one is lined up waiting for a wash, which means it won’t take us very long.”
“It’s not even 10 o’clock New Year’s morning,” Rona said, this time with a voice tinged with annoyance. “Everyone’s still asleep except us. You had to wake me early because you wanted breakfast, which I couldn’t believe considering how much you ate and drank last night.”
“It wasn’t that much,” I lied. The food was wonderful and I indulged myself. “You know me, I get up early, the same time every day no matter when we go to bed.”
“If we’re ever going to get divorced it won’t be for adultery but for your getting me up before the crack of dawn. I would tell the judge that it’s a special form of mental cruelty.” She leaned over to kiss me to make sure I realized she wasn’t being serious. At least not that serious.
I had pulled into the carwash and one of the workers was directing us toward the entrance to the shed that housed the washing apparatus. “Happy New Year,” he said, “What can I do for you this beautiful morning? An interior and exterior cleaning?”
“Just a wash,” Rona said, seeing it cost $5.00 extra for them to do the floor mats. “We clean the inside ourselves.”
“In that case, it will be $7.00.”
“That’s fine,” Rona said, “Let me get the money for you.”
“No, you don’t pay me,” he said with a broad smile, “I give you this ticket and you pay inside.”
Rona by them was out of the car and I continued to inch it toward the track that would pull it into the tunnel and through the rotating brushes. “I see you’re having a Saturday special,” Rona said pointing toward a sign. “For $39.95 you do a hand waxing and it includes an exterior wash as well as an interior cleaning? That would cost, let me do the arithmetic, $12.00—seven plus the five--so if I subtract that from $39.95, what would that then be?” She was using her fingers to help with the calculations.
“Precisely $27.95,” he said triumphantly with a melodious island accent. “A very good price for the waxing if I may say so.”
Rona looked over to me. “We’ve been wanting to get the car detailed—though why they call it that, detailed, I’ll never know—so maybe as a treat to the car for the new year we should do it. No?”
“I’m sure that if the car doesn’t thank us,” I shot her a wink, “my mother will. As you said, she loves a well-taken-care-of car. So let’s do it,” I said to the attendant as I tossed him the key. “You only live once, right?”
“You said it, sir. I feel certain you will like the work we do. We have very good boys here.”
And with that he retrieved the ticket he had given us for the exterior wash and handed us a new one for the hand waxing, which he again reminded us included both an interior and exterior cleaning and all together would save us $12.00. “It will help pay for breakfast,” Rona said. It was my turn to kiss her.
We were directed to the cashier who was located in quite a nice facility—two flat screen TVs were affixed to the wall and in a semicircle facing them were a half dozen leather armchairs and coffee tables stacked with neat piles of magazines and newspapers. We could sit there and wait while watching either ESPN or Fox News while reading Time, USA Today, or Maxim. All reminders that we were indeed in Florida.
Ignoring these for the moment I followed Rona to the cashier who was an immaculately groomed young man.
“And what can I do for you today?” he asked all chipper. “I hope you are already having a very happy 2011.” Rona muttered “Happy New Year” and passed him the bill we had been given by the attendant.
“Ah, I see you are taking advantage of our Saturday morning special. A hand waxing. If I do say so myself,” he was very tall even hunched behind the counter but when he straightened his shoulders in pride he towered over us, “we provide this service without the need to make an appointment and it only takes a half hour to get the job done. So I assume you will be waiting.” We nodded.
“We have TV here, as you may have already seen, and a coffee machine over there by the window.” He pointed. “You can sit there as well, by the window, and watch the boys work on your car. Feel free of course to go outside. They don’t mind owners watching them at work. Actually, I think they rather like it. In addition to making your car sparkle they put on a good show.”
“Inside will be fine,” I said. “I can catch up on the news and USA Today. I only see that when we’re traveling.”
“We try to make you feel at home here. But I see you have your own paper with you. Which is very fine with us. Feel free to read anything you like. And of course avail yourself of all the coffee you’d like. No extra charge for that. It’s our pleasure to make you feel welcome.”
“Thank you,” Rona said, “but we already had our coffee. In fact we’re coming from Luna Rosa. They’re open on New Year’s day.”
“So you’re out bright and early,” he said all bubbly.
“Married to him,” Rona gestured toward me, “there is no choice. If it were up to me we’d still be sleeping.
“But as long as you get here by 12:00 o’clock on Saturdays you can get the hand wax special. You save quite a bit.”
“Yes, we calculated that already,” I said.
“And another thing,” he said, “I see you have the New York Times with you? Did you buy that in town?” I indicated that we had. “The best thing about that paper,” and I suspected he wasn’t referring to the Times’ editorials, is that today, January 1st, it costs less. Did you notice that?”
“Can’t say that I did,” Rona said, “I paid my usual two dollars for it.”
“I mean the tax. It went down as of midnight. From 6½ percent to 6 percent, which I love,” he added, “taxes going down. So that means—let me see,” he was punching keys on a large calculator, “that rather than $2.13, which is what to would have cost you on Friday, today it cost ‘only’” he made quotation marks in the air, “’only’ $2.12. It’s only 9:45 New Year’s Day and already you’re saving money! Of course, including right here where you are taking advantage of the hand wax special. You are saving—let me see . . .”
“Twelve dollars,” Rona said before he could finish punching the keys. “We already figured that out. But thank you, yes, for pointing this out to us.”
“Do you also get the Sentinel?”
“The what?” I asked.
“The local paper. The Sun Sentinel.”
“Not regularly,” I said, “We pretty much only read the Times. It’s expensive I know but . . .”
“Worth it,” he completed my sentence and was grinning at us. “I asked about the Sentinel because if you had a copy I could show you that there’s a coupon in it that would save you an additional 10 percent. Let’s see, that would be another $4.00. We round the number up so that’s why it’s $4.00 and not $3.99. Which would be an even better deal.”
“Very impressive,” Rona said.
“But since you never had a hand wax with us,” I looked out the window and they had brought our car over where a team of three men had already begun to work on it, “As an introductory offer I am authorized to give you the same discount even though you do not have a coupon with you.”
“That’s very nice of you,” Rona said.
“Actually, I cannot take credit for that; it’s thanks to Rub-A-Dub. It’s their policy. Which I am happy to carry out. Especially since you seem to be very nice people. In fact, in addition, are you members of the Rub-A-Dub Club?”
“The what?” I asked.
“Our club.”
“Why should we be?” Rona asked.
“Well, among other things, in addition to getting our monthly Rub-A-Dub Newsletter, which is full of helpful car care information, it contains additional discount coupons. And, as members you get a free car wash on your birthdays, which means that unless the two of you were born on the same day,” he chuckled at that thought, “you get two free car washes a year. Of course you have to show your drivers license to confirm that it is in fact your birthday. And then after every ten washes you get one free.
We were feeling a little overwhelmed by all this generosity. Sensing that he said less buoyantly, “I know this is a lot to take in but, as members, you get another five percent off on hand wax weekend specials.”
“Amazing,” Rona exclaimed. “With all these discounts how do you, I mean Rub-A-Dub make money?”
“The owners feel that if you are satisfied with our prices, our service, and most of all the quality of our work you will come more frequently and as a result we’ll all do well. Don’t you agree?”
Clearly Rona did as she was well into filling out the application form to join the club.
Taking note of that, the cashier said, “Since you are about to be members of the Rub-A-Dub Club I am authorized to give you that extra five percent discount, which means that your total savings today will be . . .”
Without looking up, Rona said, “I don’t need to know that. It’s almost going to be free.” We joined her in smiling. “Just tell me what we owe you so I can pay. We need to get underway to pick up Steven’s mother.”
“Let me see just what that is.” He again punched numerous keys on his calculator. “If I did this properly, this time not rounding up the number, which is to your advantage, that comes to just $33.95.” He turned the calculator dial to us so we could see the number. Rona nodded and handed him her credit card.
“And of course, as we already discussed, the hand wax also includes an exterior wash and an interior cleaning, which would have cost you, if you had asked us to do just that, $12.00. So you can think of that as a savings as well.”
“That is amazing,” I said. Again I looked out the window and saw that four men, in a flurry of activity, were now working on the hand polishing of our car. They were almost done and it was already glinting in the morning sunlight.
“And of course don’t forget that you’ll also be saving on sales tax, which we unfortunately are required to charge. Last weekend the tax on $33.95 would have been $2.21; today it’s only $$2.04. You’re saving real money. Add that to the penny you saved on the Times and . . .”
“We really need to go,” Rona said, interrupting. She passed him the completed form. “It has been quite a pleasure. Really. Thank you.”
“And you’ll notice,” he called to us as we hurried toward the door and our gleaming car, “on the inside of your windshield you will find a clear plastic sticker. If you leave it there and come back in less than six months for a hand wax—on a Saturday morning of course—you’ll save an additional . . .”
posted by Steven Zwerling at
5:57 AM
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