Saturday (with her parents)

(Switch to Emily's POV)

It's a warm Saturday afternoon in April, and what will I be doing? That's right, soaping up some clunkers at my parent's car wash. I guess it's not all bad, at least I'm outside for a lot of the day, unlike some of my friends working retail. Still, not really my ideal choice of activity on a nice spring day.

Every day I soap up some cars, wash them down, and dry them off. Sometimes I get a tip, sometimes I get whistled at by some creepy dudes. But it's really the same thing every day. Each day I pray for something, anything, remotely interesting to happen, but nothing ever does. It's the same shit every day.

Even today as I walk into the locker room to change into my uniform (a dark t-shirt and shorts), I'm praying for something to happen that would set this day apart from the countless other days I've spent here. Yet the Rose Royce song 'Car Wash' playing over the speakers like it does every day at noon tells me not to hold my breath. I once read that the CIA would sometimes play annoying songs on repeat in order to psychologically **** captured terrorists so that they start talking just to make the song stop... how doing the same thing to us isn't considered **** is a mystery to me. While I'm pondering that philosophical double standard I hear a cheerful voice from behind me.

"Hey Em, what's shakin' girl?"

Yup. There it is. Every day, Mindy, my college-aged coworker asks that exact same question. And every day I respond "Not much, you?"

"Not much, you?" I respond. Yeah, I know, I'm just as guilty as everyone else around here. Trust me, it's just easier that way.

"Oh, same old same old, you know" she chuckles back. We continue making small talk as I open my employee locker, which contains my uniform.

It was at this moment I realized that today will, in fact, not be another boring old day at the car wash.