Thursday, August 14, 2008

Travelogue Three: Steal this Tire. Please!

We told everyone, it just happened. But we must tell someone the truth. We'd been driving on that pimpled front right radial for months and months and months.

But we didn't say that those 10 times we had to address the topic last Tuesday, the day it blew. Blew on our road trip home from holiday. In the midst of our nap hours planned return trip home whilst it was 31 degrees....

But blew whilst parked in the Starbucks parking lot. Yes, we shit horseshoes.

So there we were chuffed and thanking the Lord that we were safe and in good proximity to a.) endless coffee supplies, b.) fresh tires and c.) the car loving good Samaritans. 'Cept one thing.

The average pasty, sloven urban van piloting couple seems, even from the comforts of the Starbucks parking lot, to have a snowballs chance in hell of putting on a spare whence said tire might blow, for:

1.) though the tire is tantalizingly visible on the undercarriage the bolt to release it is like finding the entrance to Tutankhamen's tomb. Though I tried I just simply never played quite enough Tomb Raider to deduce that sort of shit.

2.) Should you locate and release said tire -- how do you get the jack out, factory tight as it is?

3.) Should you procure the jack and release the tire then there is the key. You know the key?? The special bolt ombot that is shaped not like a regular lug nut but like a pea pod, or nicole ritchies head or a flea track in a windstorm or fucking whatever... the special nut you need the key for of which there are only 25 world wide. The one assigned to you with your vehicle that you are sure to put your hands on in two seconds by sifting it simply from the chaff of a four day family of four road trip holiday full of tents and sleeping bags and people and diapers and shit and three coolers, count em three coolers?????

The key you have because someone might steal your hubcab/rim otherwise. My opinion... STEAL THIS TIRE! Just let us change a flat in the traditional seven steps. . Roll out spare. Jack. Nut-Nut-Nut-Nut. New Tire! Nut-Nut-Nut-Nut. Roll away naughty tire. Unjack it. Drive drive away.

I thank in order of importance for our sanity through the ordeal
The Good Samaritan
The dudes from Kal-Tire
Pingu and the laptop
Three -- count 'em -- three food coolers. Don't ever say I overpack again! I am preparation incarnate!!!
Starbucks, cause even preparation incarnate needs caffine and a cookie or two
The van even though it was the root cause of all the trouble it was also our salvation. Who knew? Vans as duplicitous in their blessings as the Catholic church.
The old woman who said I was so lucky to have two good kids (can she send a memo to their grandmother who we had just spent four days visiting?)


The Good Samaritans Refrain

I wanted his card just so I could post the following on craigslist
I'd never hire
that lawyer.
That Ron Myer
Can't even change a tire.
What a liar.
I mean lawyer.




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Blogger Mad said...

It sounds as if you all kept your caffeinated cool throughout it all. Something I could never have done even in a Starbuck's parking lot.

BTW, have you noticed that Alpha D has packed it in?

6:34 a.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Whaaaaa! It's enough to make you never leave your backyard!

Love the outfit, very "I survived preschool Lollapalooza."

8:45 p.m.  
Blogger nonlineargirl said...

Note to self - don't take MoWo up on her offer to drive me around.

2:38 p.m.  
Blogger Bon said...

dude. an ordeal...but so glad you are safe. i have an out-of-proportion fear of tires blowing.

5:50 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

HA I figured out ours all by myself!

I was so proud..and at no panic...

LOVE the photo

9:01 p.m.  

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