get donkey! asks, “What wipe-type are you?”
It is morning. You are driving around town and it begins to rain. It’s neither a torrential downpour nor a drizzle, but a steady shower that requires the use of windshield wipers. What do you do?
a) Turn on the intermittent wipers and keep adjusting the delay as necessary. Refuse to turn wipers on at normal speed unless absolutely necessary.
b) Decide not to mess around. Go right for normal speed wipage.
c) Really decide not to mess around. Go for the super-speed wipe setting. Also you tap on your brakes every five seconds to avoid fishtailing.
d) Turn wipers off and gaze wistfully at the pretty raindrop faeries that skitter down your windshield.
e) Stop car, get out, fall to your knees, and beseech the heavens to cease their weeping.
f) Pull over, get out, and go into full Gene Kelly mode
g) Blame Saddam’s Weapons of Mass Precipitation.
h) Blame Bush for relaxing clean air standards and allowing polluters to seed the clouds with their vile toxic spew.
Key:
a) You are Stubborn-Wiper. The nanny-state will not tell you how to run your wipers. You may also be a libertarian.
b) You are Vanilla-Wiper. You are normal. You bore me. Carry on.
c) You are Panic-Wiper. You don’t look that goofy. Really. I’m not laughing at you. Bob Edwards just said something really funny on the NPR, that’s all.
d) You are High. Can I have some? Oh and get off the road before you hurt someone.
e) You are I-Live-In-Houston-It’s-Been-Raining-for-5-Straight-Days-and-I-Can’t Take-it-Anymore-Wiper. Your prayers will not work. The heavens now have Supplicant ID and they are screening your entreaties. They are too busy trying to figure out what to do about Jerry Falwell. He’s such a PR nightmare. Get back in the car.
f) You are Too-Damn-Happy-Wiper. I hate you. Go away.
g) You are True-American-Patriot-Wiper. I really like your Calvin Peeing on Osama sticker and your “Let’s Roll” mudflaps. Classy!
h) You are Green-wiper. Watch out, dude. “g” is in front of you, he’s all pissed off, and he’s about to slam on his brakes and scream something incoherent out his window. Trust me, you do not want to rear-end that mo-fo.
Oh, unfortunately your beat-up microbus, while cooler looking, probably spits out more pollution than “g’s” brand-new F250 Super Duty. At least it smells that way.