Dear Wigleaf,

I once had a job cleaning and preparing limousines before they would leave the hangar and go out. I washed, waxed and vacuumed the limousines. I cleaned the windows — I had to use newspapers instead of paper towels or rags. I cleaned the tires, made them shine and cleaned out the grime that accumulates in the wheels. I checked the headlights, the turn signals, the brakes and the windshield wipers. I checked the oil and the windshield wiper fluid. The insides were full of that tacky decor: neon pink and blue lights, blinking lights, unnaturally cold leather. They smelled like bodily fluids ten years removed. I placed colored napkins in champagne flutes and filled the buckets with ice. I put DVDs in the DVD players. Everyone thinks being a limousine driver is lowly, but no one thinks of the person who wipes down the leather and the vinyl and vacuums the glitter. I only bring all this up because when people ask what kind I of writer I am, I have a hard time answering this question, even though I love it. But when people used to ask about cleaning limousines, I could talk all night about it, even thought I hated it.

Trent






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Read TE's "Dressing Down."

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