Ever wonder about an authors, often wierd, sense of humor? How many of you ladies have ever changed a tire?
Yesterday, my daughter and I were on the Interstate - three lanes of traffic - 70 miles per hour mind you - in my car - when we had a blow out of a rear tire. We pulled to the shoulder next to one of those lovely concrete constuction barriers. We looked at each other and said "Do you know how to change a tire?" NOPE! But hey, we're intelligent, independant, modern women, we can do this!!!!!! And of course we're thinking some hero will see two women trying to change a flat and come to the rescue.
Out of the car, with vehicles blowing past us making it seem like we're in a wind tunnel. Get all the necessary equipment out of the trunk. The jack is a pretty straight forward tool so jacking up the car and getting the hubcap off wasn't too tough. Cars keep whizzing past, including a couple of cop cars. Next comes the lug nuts!!!! I wonder who came up with the term "Lug Nut"? It has a really masculine ring to it and stimulates all kind of images about the masculine personality. The term was most likely devised because men put the damn things on so tight that only a man has the strength to get the damn things off. (Tip, losen the damn lug nuts before you jack up the car so the tire won't keep turning to hamper your efforts).
Okay, after a lot of pushing and straining, the lug nuts are off. The blown tire is off. On goes that little dounut thingy that passes as a tire. Still no hero in sight. All but one of the lug nuts are back on, losely, we decided to lower the jack so we can tighten them enough so the tire would stay on.
By God, we'd done it!!! We changed a tire - by ourselves. Guess what? Along comes our hero! The first words out of my daughter's mouth was, "Now, you show up?"
Our hero, who was gorgeous by the way, has this sheepish grin and apologizes, "Sorry, I went past so fast I couldn't stop." He'd pulled off the Interstate on the first access road and climbed up a hill to reach us. You have give the guy credit. And of course a killer smile didn't hurt. Anyway, he tightened the infernal nuts, and put the blown tire and the jack back in the trunk. We're ready to get back in the car and, yep, you got it again, a cop finally pulls over, lights flashing.
Big an muscular, this State Trooper looks as if he could have lifted the car without the aid of a jack. "You ladies need assistance?" he asks. "Yeah, about forty-five minutes ago."
So, my daughter and I get back in the car, look at each other, and start laughing hysterically. This sort of thing is sooooo typical of our mother and daughter bonding days. Next on the agenda - get off the Interstate and find a place to get a new tire so we didn't have to drive too far on the donut thingy. We're in Indianapolis, shouldn't be too difficult. Yeah right! Ever try to get a tire changed after 5:00? The first two places we stopped, the chilverous heros working there said, "sorry, we just closed". The last one directed us to a Firestone dealership at the mall, three miles away. But of course we had to hurry because they closed at 6:00. Saturday traffic in Indianapolis is slow at best. Well, we did make it, with a few minutes to spare, Tire changed, and we're back on the road -- still laughing. Anyone want to bet whether or not the experience will one day find itself in one of my stories?
I have to tell you, that because of that damn blow out, my daughter and I both laughed more yesterday than either of us have in a long time. Needless to say, we changed our plans for the rest of the day. By the time we would have arrived at our intended destination, it would have been too late to accomplish what we'd originally set out to do. Instead, we returned to my house, fixed a nice dinner, and spent the remainder of the evening watching a movie.
We're thinking about trying it again today! News at eleven.
