So … I cleaned all of the worm poop off my car yesterday --
took me two hours -- then I get up this morning to discover … more worm
poop. I clean it off as best as I can,
go back inside to watch the NCAA mens lacrosse finals, then come back out
around 3:30 to discover more worm poop.
Seriously. Farmers should just
dump a bunch of frigging inch worms all over their crops. There's enough shit in those little suckers
to fertilize a multi-acre farm.
I scrub and scratch and finally I get out my ice scraper and
start scraping the shit off my car. I'm
sure I'm scratching the shit out of the paint as well as off of it, but I don't
care anymore. This is getting fucking
ridiculous. And frustrating. This is incredibly fucking frustrating.
I decide to head over to Ace Hardware to get a hose, since
my landlord's hoses are defective, and since I don't want to have to ask them
every time I want to use the water. I also buy a spray nozzle. Surprisingly the store does not have Mr.
Clean Magic Erasers, or anything like them, so I go in search of a clerk.
ME: Do you
have any products that will take worm poop off cars?
TEEN CLERK:
Hmmmm…. Maybe. (This provides me
with the first ray of hope I've had since the Great and Disastrous Worm
Invasion started.) Here, try this.
He hands me a Turtle Wax product designed for tar, sap, and
bird shit, especially dried on bird shit.
Just in case, I have another thought, and I walk over to the paint
department where I pick up one more item as the announcement lets me know that
Ace is closing, even though the website claimed they'd be open for another two
hours.
I take this Turtle Wax spray home and give it a try. I spray it all over the car then wait a
minute or two. According to the
directions, I am supposed to be able to wipe this shit off (the product and the
worm poop) with a little buffing. That
is, if I survive the stench of the spray.
Here's what I have to say about this: LIES.
DAMN LIES.
The worm poop is still there, some sap is still there, and
I'm just pissed off now and a little high from the fumes. Maybe I used it wrong; maybe I didn't wait
long enough; maybe I used the wrong kind of cloth. I don't know, and I don't care. I hate Turtle Wax now, I hate Ace Hardware, I
hate that clerk, I hate inch worms, and I hate the neighbors for having the
damn trees in the first place.
After getting as much of the worm poop off as I can handle
for the third time today and fourth time in two days, I take out the secret
weapon I bought in the paint department -- a huge sheet of 2mm-thick
plastic. I cover my still damp car, shut
the plastic into the doors, and use six bricks to secure the rest of it. I figure if wet + the plastic = mold, it's
still better than worm poop.
After getting it all secured, I come into the house and get
onto the Internet. I decide to Google
"How remove worm poop from car" and discover that this really is a
problem. The solutions are simple:
1. Park somewhere
else. (Easy except that there is no
other parking available.)
2. Sue the neighbors
to have the tree taken down. (My
landlords would have to do that.)
3. Use a car cover.
4. One of the
solutions that pops up on the search is my own blog from yesterday… like that's
going to help me or anyone else.
Look, my townhouse is in a great location, and I pay a
decent rent. My neighbors who share the
house are quiet. Renters know what a
rarity it is to have quiet neighbors, and my landlords take decent care of me
for the important things. I really don't
want to move because of inch worm shit.
That's insane. Yet letting my car
become encrusted in worm poop is equally insane. It's like a joke of some kind.
Tomorrow morning, if the bricks hold, I'll leave a few
minutes early, put the bricks on the ledge next to my space, shake the worm
poop off the plastic, fold it up, and shove it into the back of my car for
safe-keeping. For now, anyway, until
those suckers die off, I guess I'm in Anti-Worm Mode with the cars.
PS -- Son found a car wash in a town far away that scrubbed
the worm poop right off his car. There
has to be a solution somewhere, and I'm happy to pay. But if I have to see a bucket full of watery
worm poop again this season, I might just cut those fucking trees down myself.
