Once in a while at the end of the day, instead of washing my clothes, I just throw them right in the trash....because there is just no saving them....
Lets slow down and start at the beginning. You have a big day planned with your project car, where you will finally make some long awaited progress on it. You prepare all week, buying the supplies you will need and coming up with a game plan for a full day of activities. After much anticipation, the day finally arrives and it is now "go time". You wake up before the sun rises, and you throw on some "work clothes". Your "work clothes" were your good clothes last week, but you ruined them just checking something real quick under the car. You forget to eat breakfast because you are on a mission and can't be bothered. There is definitely no time for food, drinks, or talking of any kind, because it is Saturday and it is going to be busy.
You start off messing with something greasy, and forget where you put the red shop rags. This is the point where it suddenly becomes ok to just wipe your hands on your shirt. It doesn't matter that it is a white shirt. The shirt is 50% of your "work clothing", and it is no big deal if you get it a little dirty. A few hours pass, the greasy work is over, all the parts are clean, and you decide to install them. This is a really great idea until the ratchet slips, and you whack your knuckles on the sharpest object within 30 miles. As it turns out, that object is under your hood. No big deal, that is why you are wearing pants.... to wipe blood on, makes sense right? Obviously you don't want to go back into the house for a bandaid, because you could become trapped in there by god knows what. So the only option is to wrap up your bloody knuckles with the part of your t-shirt that you had just cut off... and hold it on there with some electrical tape. Thank goodness there was still a clean, sterilized part of the t-shirt left to wrap your hand in, otherwise it could get infected.
Since you are now injured, there are only a few tools left that you can use without causing massive pain to your already hurting hand. Luckily, the welder is a one-handed tool. The floor pans in your car just need a few little welds to finish them off and this is a perfect opportunity to finish them. The welding helmet goes down and before you know it, the rip in your pant leg is on fire. Yes, your pants are now ON FIRE. (Don't laugh, it burns!). You swat at it screaming like a child that just fell off of his bike, and your buddy hurls a bucket of ice water onto your leg. This stops the levi inferno, and soothes the burning for a short time.
You finish off the day with a few odds and ends that you can still do with your injured hand and a soaking wet burned leg. It has been a rough day and you are beat, so it is time to go back inside and see what you look like in the mirror. The minute you walk in the door, 5 people shout at you "don't you dare touch anything!". This leads you to tip toe your way across the kitchen leaving 12 oil slicked steps, all the way to the bathroom. You look in the mirror and realize that you have had a black stripe across your forehead from the grease fest that morning and it is obvious that you had been picking your nose. AWESOME. There is some sort of lubricant on the back of your head, that didn't bother you all day, but now you are beginning to wonder how it got there. Your shirt looks as if you were swimming in an oil slick, not to mention the fact that the bottom 6 inches of it are missing because it is wrapped around your electrical taped hand. You glance down at your still damp, partially burned pants and realize that you still have a pocket full of screws that will most likely never make it back to the car again. All you can do is smile and laugh, because you can't believe you lit yourself on fire again. Seriously, when will you learn? After a painfull shower, you take your clothes and throw them directly in the trash, because there is clearly not a savable strand of fabric left on them for next weekend.
-HRCS