Dawn's Digression.
Friday, January 09, 2004
Flat tire.
Okay, so my tire has been a little low lately. I was planning to go buy a new one on Wednesday. Until...
Tuesday morning I noticed my tire was a bit low, so I went to the gas station and put air in it and went to work. I figured a couple more days wouldn't kill me. *shrug* I drove to work. I came out of work Tuesday afternoon and the damn thing was completely flat. I started my trek to Rachel's, and figured I'd stop at a nearby gas station, air it up, and hit the tire store. No dice. Damned service station did not have air. Can you believe it? A~, I get to Rachel's, change clothes and go out to jack up the truck. My jack is a piece of doody. It wouldn't work. So, I went in and got Rachel, who was sitting on her couch with wet hair and her lamby slippers on. She felt like crap and it was freakin' 30 degrees outside. We tried to use the can of fix of flat in my car as a temporary solution, only the nozzle broke plumb off. Okay. We got the jack out of her car, and she attempted to jack the truck up with her jack. )Make sure you are imagining Rachel laying in her driveway, 30 degrees outside, wet hair, WITH lamby slippers.) It started working! We were happy. I decided to go ahead and start getting my spare off the truck. I lay down in the driveway underneath the truck and look up.
The rackin' frackin' spare was rackin' frackin' GONE.
The nut, bolt, and washer were still firmly in place. How the rackin' frackin' hell could the spare have escaped? I think someone stole the damn thing. *sigh* SO~ Rachel put up her jack and we weighed our options. She remembered she had a foot pump for her bike or air mattress, or something and we aired up the tire with a foot pump. No shit. Then we went to Goodyear, where they 'fixed' the flat for only $18! I asked the little man if I needed a new tire, he said, "No." Yay!
Right?
Nope.
After Goodyear, we went to MiCocina for dinner. When we left the restaurant, I went over to unlock the truck door on her side, and asked, "Um, hey...Doesn't that tire look a bit low?" She agreed. Hmmm. We went about our business, and eventually I drove home.
Wednesday morning, I go out in the garage to leave for work. I checked the tire and the bastard was FLAT. Flat as a racker fracker. I stomp back in the house, steal 2 quarters from the Muffin, go to 7-11, air up the tire, and drive to work. After work the tire is flat. I drive my (un)happy ass back to Goodyear. They patch the tire. But not before telling me I "must have magnets in my tires" because I ran over another nail. Yeah, unh-hunh, sure. Just fix the damn thing. I drove home.
Thursday morning, once again, I'm on my way to work and the RACKIN FRACKIN tire is FLAT AGAIN. I air it up, drive to work. I called the manager and he told me to bring it in and they would fix it. Jennifer and I dropped the truck off at lunch and I came back to work. Half an hour later, the manager calls me and says I need a new tire. Now I'm PISSED. Two days ago they tell me the tire is fine. My third time in, I suddenly need a new tire. Could it be maybe because I've been driving on a mostly flat tire? Could it??? Yeah, I think it could. Anyway, I tell the man just to freakin' fix it, but that I'm not happy. He tells me a new tire will be $59 minus the cost of the patch. Fine, whatever. SO~ yesterday, Rachel picks me up from work and we go to Goodyear again. I get ready to pay and my total is $58. Okay, the patch was $18. Shouldn't that be around $41? No. Because I have to pay for balancing, etc etc.
To make a long story short, I had a flat tire this week.
Tuesday morning I noticed my tire was a bit low, so I went to the gas station and put air in it and went to work. I figured a couple more days wouldn't kill me. *shrug* I drove to work. I came out of work Tuesday afternoon and the damn thing was completely flat. I started my trek to Rachel's, and figured I'd stop at a nearby gas station, air it up, and hit the tire store. No dice. Damned service station did not have air. Can you believe it? A~, I get to Rachel's, change clothes and go out to jack up the truck. My jack is a piece of doody. It wouldn't work. So, I went in and got Rachel, who was sitting on her couch with wet hair and her lamby slippers on. She felt like crap and it was freakin' 30 degrees outside. We tried to use the can of fix of flat in my car as a temporary solution, only the nozzle broke plumb off. Okay. We got the jack out of her car, and she attempted to jack the truck up with her jack. )Make sure you are imagining Rachel laying in her driveway, 30 degrees outside, wet hair, WITH lamby slippers.) It started working! We were happy. I decided to go ahead and start getting my spare off the truck. I lay down in the driveway underneath the truck and look up.
The rackin' frackin' spare was rackin' frackin' GONE.
The nut, bolt, and washer were still firmly in place. How the rackin' frackin' hell could the spare have escaped? I think someone stole the damn thing. *sigh* SO~ Rachel put up her jack and we weighed our options. She remembered she had a foot pump for her bike or air mattress, or something and we aired up the tire with a foot pump. No shit. Then we went to Goodyear, where they 'fixed' the flat for only $18! I asked the little man if I needed a new tire, he said, "No." Yay!
Right?
Nope.
After Goodyear, we went to MiCocina for dinner. When we left the restaurant, I went over to unlock the truck door on her side, and asked, "Um, hey...Doesn't that tire look a bit low?" She agreed. Hmmm. We went about our business, and eventually I drove home.
Wednesday morning, I go out in the garage to leave for work. I checked the tire and the bastard was FLAT. Flat as a racker fracker. I stomp back in the house, steal 2 quarters from the Muffin, go to 7-11, air up the tire, and drive to work. After work the tire is flat. I drive my (un)happy ass back to Goodyear. They patch the tire. But not before telling me I "must have magnets in my tires" because I ran over another nail. Yeah, unh-hunh, sure. Just fix the damn thing. I drove home.
Thursday morning, once again, I'm on my way to work and the RACKIN FRACKIN tire is FLAT AGAIN. I air it up, drive to work. I called the manager and he told me to bring it in and they would fix it. Jennifer and I dropped the truck off at lunch and I came back to work. Half an hour later, the manager calls me and says I need a new tire. Now I'm PISSED. Two days ago they tell me the tire is fine. My third time in, I suddenly need a new tire. Could it be maybe because I've been driving on a mostly flat tire? Could it??? Yeah, I think it could. Anyway, I tell the man just to freakin' fix it, but that I'm not happy. He tells me a new tire will be $59 minus the cost of the patch. Fine, whatever. SO~ yesterday, Rachel picks me up from work and we go to Goodyear again. I get ready to pay and my total is $58. Okay, the patch was $18. Shouldn't that be around $41? No. Because I have to pay for balancing, etc etc.
To make a long story short, I had a flat tire this week.
Dawn, 4:05 PM
