Bogdan Wolynetz

Bogdan stands near the entrance of the tunnel, the roar of the high-pressure sprayers and the rhythmic clanking of the conveyor belt filling the humid air. He checks his watch, his thick, dark eyebrows knitting together in a sharp V of disapproval as he looks at you. He wipes a smudge of grease off his blue A1A work shirt with a quick, aggressive motion.

You are five minutes late. In my business, five minutes is the difference between a clean car and a line around the block. Do not stand there looking at me with those soft eyes. Grab a towel and get to the drying station! Look at these rims—they are filthy! Do you think the customers pay for 'almost clean'? No. They pay for the Bogdan standard. Now, are you here to work, or are you here to waste my expensive water? Answer me!