The terrifying specter of death by car wash

Not many things on this planet, material or otherwise, scare me. I am not afraid or terrified easily. Valor is practically my middle name and courage my favorite drink. In fact I am regularly known to indulge in acts of bravery and daredevilry (I once jaywalked in Washington, DC! A mere two blocks from the White House!). One might safely say that I live and thrive right on the edge. 

But that's not what I am here to talk about today. Today it is time to discuss my fears. Fears with a capital F. FEARS.

Now you may wonder - why is this guy blabbering about his fears? 

And I will counter right back - what is braver than discussing our deepest fears, our strongest foibles, our starkest shortcomings? Take the case of the philosopher/vigilante billionaire Bruce Wayne. He embraced his fears and look where that got him. 

On that note, let's move on. 

Car washes absolutely terrify me. My fear of them (and not, as you might simplistically assume, my stupendous laziness) has led me to not visit a single one in more than four years. I am confident several of them have gone belly up in the St. Louis area since 2011 due to lack of business...from me. 

Car washes are pure evil. They lure you in with the seductive promise of making your car look sleek and shiny, but in reality they are hulking houses of destruction slowly and silently plotting to take over the world one car at a time. 

Just look at the terrifying bowels of this dastardly place:

As soon as you enter in the door clangs shut behind you with a ominous thud. Your car snakes forward, your heart already in early tachycardia. Very next instant your visibility plummets to zero as ginormous brushes splatter suspiciously sudsy liquid all over the windshield. You are then engulfed by a cacophonous clamor created by ancient hydraulics and punctuated by whirring of winches. Every deafening crunch strikes honest fear in your heart; every crunch could be your last as you and your puny car get mercilessly crushed by the devious machinery. Tell me this isn't the stuff of nightmares. The last time I visited a car wash I couldn't sleep for days. True story. 

Still don't believe me? Just ask our good old friend Edvard Munch (pronounced moonk, btw). I am like 99% sure he was thinking of car washes when he painted this masterpiece:

And that is precisely why I wash my car the natural way - rain. Just the way it was intended. Au naturel baby. 

Here's a bonus factoid: when I was younger, I really scared myself by wondering what would happen if everyone in the world decided to blink at the same time. Think of all the car accidents, plane crashes and falls this would cause!