Sparkle Bay Car Wash
Greg and Cathy wash their dirty car, and nearly get caught doing the dirty deed, at Sparkle Bay Car Wash.
It was a clear, sunny Saturday morning at Sparkle Bay Car Wash. The sounds of cars passing by blended with the rhythmic splish-splash of water hitting metal. Greg leaned against the front of the yellow Camaro, arms crossed, watching Cathy. His petite wife stood on her toes, scrubbing a stubborn water spot on the roof above the passenger door. The tank top she wore—thin, white, and already damp from the spray of the hose—h...