I've a real problem with my windshield wipers. For those of you who are from the heart of the Amazon or who have never seen an automotive vehicle before, allow me to explain what those are. Windshield wipers are utilities attached to the front windshield (and sometimes the back, unfortunately my car lacks this feature) consisting of a metal arm attached to which is a rubber blade. Ideally, when one turns on the windshield wipers during a rainy day said metal arms begin arching back and forth across the glass; the rubber blades effortlessly and quietly sweep the water out of the way of your vision, allowing for increased visibility and improved driving ability.
Quietly.
That is the key word here, ladies and gentlemen. With the introductions out of the way allow me to explain what happens when I switch on my good old wipers. The first couple of moments are smooth, similar to the initial tingle one experiences when eating wasabi. That is, tubes of wasabi. After a moment or so, the wasabi, or in this case the wipers, begins to strike back. Instead of smooth motions the rubber grinds across the glass, leaving its mark and creating wholly undesirable sounds. This agony continues for a few moments. Eventually it stops. The wasabi has safely exited the esophagus, averting acid reflux for another day. Then, like some infernal earthquake, the aftershocks arrive. The wasabi sets fire to your nostrils and likewise, my windshield wipers increase the fury of their grinding until it resonates into a dull beat keeping rhythm with my tires on the ground. This continues until I turn them off to risk driving through a kaleidoscope of liquid or I reach my destination.
It's safe to say that I know the cause of this. They are plotting against me. I have scraped the bumpers of my Corolla against one too many a mailbox and the entire vehicle has demanded blood. First it will be the windshield wipers. Then the seatbelts will tighten, cutting off my oxygen. Eventually the steering wheel will fail to respond and send me careening over a bridge, whereupon the safety locks will engage, trapping me to an underwater abyss.
When the police finally fish me out out of the water, they will write down my cause of death as "driving accident due to poor vision caused by windshield wiper failure". But you know the truth.
