The Spillening and the Signening
Guest Post: Please Welcome Golf Widow!

Clear, Not Smear

Remember how I complained about my windshield smearers? Let me break it down for you:

Windshield smearers + Nighttime + Precipitation = Invisible lane lines = White knuckle commute home

After a couple of these, I caved and ordered new super-trick extra-spiffy you-won't-even-know-it's raining windshield wipers from Rainx, because they had a special promotion going wherein I will get a special-extra bonus visibility pack in addition to the wipers.

I am all about the visibility, even if it is expensive. (See above equation.)

So it's taking awhile to get these doodads. I was hunting around the kitchen for something or other. I lifted the lid on the "I don't know what to do with this so I'll put it in here" box, and whad'ya know?

(Not much! You?)

There, sitting among the lightbulbs and other detritus was a little bottle of Rainx, the liquid that you put on your windshield to make the rain all but evaporate before it hits.

I grabbed it and clutched it to my bosom, then I read the directions. Since it was above 40 degrees and we had just gotten some nice new clean soft shop rags, off I went to apply the potent elixir. I applied it in overlapping circles with said soft cloth, allowed it to dry to a light haze, applied some more, allowed it to dry some more, then I polished the windshield until it was as clear as... okay, glass.

It rained yesterday. I had to commute farther than usual, to the hotel that was hosting our sales conference. Aha! The perfect test!

My friends, this stuff works so well it should be illegal. It is magic. It turned my barely adequate windshield wipers into powerhouses of wipeage largely because all the water turned into little teeny droplets that danced right off the car with a single smearer swipe.

I can't wait for my new wipers. The combination will make driving in a monsoon seem like a a jaunt on perfect sunny day in springtime, complete with the trilling of the lark.

Okay, maybe not with the trilling of the lark. But I'll be able to see, dammit.

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