So Wednesday night I went to SMF’s for dinner. I went to get my oil changed Wednesday morning, and the guy tried to tell me that my tires were fine. I never believe ANYONE about ANYTHING- because, you know, they teach you about tires in law school. NOT!
I sent SMF’s roommate, (whom I will refer to as “homeless man” because I think he dresses like a homeless person,) out to check my tires. You know, to see if they needed to be balanced and rotated. HM, for short, said, “Your tires look fine, but there’s a huge nail in one of them.”
He looks like he would know a little something about tires, right?
SONOFABITCH. Like I needed ONE MORE THING to deal with this week. I promptly got super worried about it. I mean, “Should one drive with a nail in their tire?” “How fast can you go?” “Am I going to die on the way home??” I had flashes of my body parts splattered across Mopac after a violet tire blowout during the night, causing endless traffic delays. And my friends seeing said body parts as they trudged to work the next day. DRAMA.
My body parts, here. Glad my boobs SAVED THE DAY!
So I went to Discount Tire yesterday morning. Discount Tire on a Thursday morning could also be referred to as the “place where geriatrics come to hang out.” I mean, I was totally waiting for them to flip on the Golden Girls, and sing “Thank you for being a friend.” I was the youngest person there. BY DECADES. Oh, besides the obviously high-school aged young man who helped me with my tire. So there I am, wondering “how much is it going to take to get this nail out? do you think if I pulled it out myself they’d give me a discount?” That’s when young tire man came up to me and said, I’ll pull your car around front.
Yay for Discount Tires!
I said, “huh? how much do I owe you?” AND THAT’S WHEN HE SAID FREE. AND THAT’S ALSO WHEN HE STARTED AT MY BOOBS! Thanks boobs, you finally came in handy for something!
Maybe I got this tire fixed for free because I kissed the Blarney Stone. I think that makes you lucky......or something like that......
