Red liquid trickled through my fingers and swirled down the sink. I pumped more of the strong-smelling soap into my hands, rubbing my palms vigorously in an attempt to get the stains out. The red under and around my nails were a much darker color, having crusted more thickly in the crevices. I turned the knob for even hotter water, and steam began to rise from my crimson hands. No matter how hard I scraped, I couldn't get it all out.
Why did I agree to help paint the ABSA car wash banner?!