The meek shall inherit the earth

You don't expect it in a car wash. You're not concerned at all that it could happen. Fierce arguing, showing off power, real fuss, and commotion. Honestly, one is not going to clean a grimy car to witness verbal abuse, threats, intimidation, scaremongering.

It's a quiet Saturday afternoon when I decide that my car could use a wash. I have been on vacation; I recently took quite a bit of waste wood and trash to the local dump. As a result, my beloved vehicle is too filthy to look at. The interior as well as the exterior.

It's not my favorite job. Cleaning a car. In the distant past, I did it myself. I filled buckets full of lukewarm water, I took shampoo (ultimate wash & wax), sponges, the flexible garden hose.

However, even now that I have my car washed, I can't say that I find it a pleasant task. It is definitely not the fault of the young man who welcomes me at the carwash, who kindly asks me which program I want to choose (‘extra protect version’), after which he pre-cleans the tires and windows with the high-pressure spray.

The moment when the system is running, and the car is driven into the car wash – through an ingenious rail system. That is the problem. You are not supposed to perform any action anymore. You are not allowed to brake; you are certainly not allowed to turn the steering wheel. So, you must watch helplessly as your car is treated with active foam, cleaned with detergents (soft rotating brushes ensure that this is all done scratch-free) after which radial dryers finally blow the vehicle dry and without stains.

I am honest. I am always happy when the green light indicates that I can leave the car wash (‘check whether your brakes still work’). I know very well that my fear of the car wash is not based on facts or experience. Nothing has ever happened to me. No scratches, no broken mirrors, no flat tires. And I have never heard from friends or family members that problems can arise at a random car wash.

It is drizzling outside. The sky is as gray as the thoughts of a North Korean border guard. I drive leisurely to the garage where I always have my car cleaned. There is a line of several cars. I put on some music and listen contentedly to ‘Deaf for a living’ by Fischer-Z. I tap out the beat with my fingers on the steering wheel.

Usually, I don’t pay attention to the cars going through the car wash. But the vehicle that is now being cleaned stands out because of its lavish elegance, opulent design, and exceptional sporty look. I can only guess what brand it is. Rolls Royce? Bentley?

Now I also notice that there is another attendant. I used to be assisted by a young man, short of stature, very cropped haircut and dressed in blue overalls. What characterizes him is his infectious laugh. When it is not too busy, I often have a chat with him. That’s why I know that he a stand-up comedian in his spare time.

The girl who is now scrubbing the rims (bucket of water, brush), cleaning the bumpers and windows (high-pressure spray), wears dungarees, a white T-shirt and has dyed her hair light blue. If I had to guess what she is studying, I would think she is doing something in art history. Or  music. Accordion? Bassoon? Singing?

The line is slowly moving forward. The luxury car has now disappeared into the car wash. And without realizing it, I am thinking about how it is possible. Why there are always rich people on earth. And poor fellow inhabitants. Have the rich people just been lucky? And the poor therefore unlucky? Are the wealthy mortals smarter than the insignificant fellow creatures? Or is it a kind of law of nature that ensures that wealth, money and prosperity are not evenly distributed among humanity. Just as there is fertile soil on earth. And pieces of barren land.

Why - in all the time we have lived on this planet - has it never been possible to achieve a somewhat fairer, equal distribution of wealth. And with that, a more equal dissemination of power, of status. Why does that remain. The difference between insignificant and between influential? Between the assertive and the meek?

My thoughts are still fluttering like lost butterflies in my head when the limousine leaves the car wash. Spotless. At least that's what I assume. But after a few meters the shiny car suddenly comes to a standstill, the owner steps out, crouches, and strokes the olive-green metallic paint with his hand. A form of tenderness?

If it is deep affection for his beautiful car, then he shows it in a strange way. With short steps he strides to the place where the car wash employee is busy preparing another car for a cleaning.

He shouts at her. That much becomes clear. He waves his arms wildly and gestures to the girl to come along. At first, she pretends not to hear anything. She walks around the car and continues to do what she was hired to do in a disciplined manner. But the driver of the expensive auto does not buy this. He turns off the tap, which means there is no more supply for the high-pressure cleaner.

The student looks at the man in despair. Then she puts the hose on the ground, apologizes to the waiting customer and shuffles along behind the man in the overpriced suit. Once she arrives at the polished automobile, the man points to the scratch. The girl crouches as well and studies the spot the driver has indicated.

Then she stands up and shakes her head in denial. Calm, self-assured, audacious. The businessman was already angry. But the indifferent attitude of the employee makes him even more furious. He walks around his pricey sedan, stamping his feet. He is moving his arms like he is preparing to take off in a moment.

I turn off the radio and open the window. Although the spectacle is taking place more than thirty meters away from me, I can hear loud and clear what the entrepreneur is shouting at the assistant. He demands that she get her boss. He is not satisfied with her answer. Nor with her work ethic. Again and again, he points at the deep scratch that is definitely visible in the olive-green paint. That must be the result of a defect in the car wash, he yells. The girl remains friendly, nods understandingly and walks to the open doors of the garage that is located right next to the car wash.

A moment later, the merchant is shouting at the owner of the garage. This is a small, timid man. Blue overalls, worn safety shoes. He wipes his black, greasy hands with a cloth. This is what power can do, I think to myself. If you have money, you can bark at random people. You can accuse them, incriminate them.

Because the senior mechanic is not acting either - according to the owner of the luxury car – the businessperson picks up his mobile phone to have the police on the line within seconds. Like a seasoned actor, he gives a dramatic sketch of the situation. "You must show up here. Immediately! It threatens to get completely out of hand. We are on the cusp of a serious fight. Yes, the car wash at the River Street,” he concludes the conversation. The timid garage owner and the girl look at each other in surprise.

In the meantime, several waiting customers have gotten out of their jalopies and form a semi-circle around the Bentley (Rolls Royce?). As if they are watching an exciting open-air play.

Instead of feeling observed, the driver seems to get more and more at ease. He parades around his precious possession like an emperor. Arrogant, disdainful, self-important. Meanwhile, he keeps accusing the two garage employees of having ruined his car.

At the same time, I have also gotten out of my vehicle and shuffle curiously towards the bystanders. Then we hear sirens. We look around. We notice a police car with bright blue flashing lights,

The potentate is visibly pleased that the law enforcement officer has listened to him so well. A policewoman gets out. We hold our breath. Will power beat the powerless this occasion as well?

The garage owner is closer to tears than laughter. To my surprise, the girl remains extremely cool. It seems as if she has been waiting for this moment. She walks up to the policewoman and shows her a picture on her mobile phone. In a loud voice – strong enough for eyewitnesses to hear – she reveals, matter-of-factly: “Look, I took this photo before the limousine was cleaned. See that? That scratch? It’s already clearly visible on the still-dirty paint.”