Cars: tougher than you think
We were supposed to go to my mom's family reunion yesterday, starting yet another fun-filled week of NOT relaxing on my vacation.
Instead, we spent two hours on the side of the road, waiting for a wrecker that never came after my parents' car blew a tire. I don't just mean that they got a flat. I mean the tire split from the inside rim to the outside.
The Fiancé and I were driving separately, and about five minutes after we passed my parents on I-75, my phone rang. It was my mom. "You're gonna have to come back and get us. We just got a flat tire."
The F volunteered to change the flat about fourteen times in an hour and a half until finally my mom relented and accepted the fact that even after three phonecalls, each more frantic and pissed off than the next, the roadside assistance might not be assisting us.
I have never changed a tire, so I was kind of looking forward to watching The Fiancé work. It was going well until after we got the lugnuts off (okay, until he got the lugnuts off) and tried to take the tire off.
"It should just--come--off!" He was pulling with all his weight and the tire wasn't budging. I sat on the side of the road (and it wasn't until that moment that it occurred to me that sitting on the side of 75 might not have been the smartest place for me to be, even though my mom had called over, "Are you guys still okay and safe!?" a few minutes before) and never even heard the guy who suddenly said, from behind me, "You got an aluminum tire that won't come off?"
I turned, expecting to see the roadside assistance guy. When I turned, still sitting, and came face to face with a pair of legs in khaki shorts and feet in flip-flops, I gaped. Some random stranger had just stopped to help?
He asked if the jack was sturdy, grabbed the wheel well, and then kicked the tire.
Some random stranger had just stopped to kick the shit out of my parents' car??
I know cars are tough. I know they're built to protect us. I know they are steel. I know that a human being is unlikely to harm a vehicle. But I still cringed when he took hold of the frame once more and karate-kicked the shit out of the tire. And then clapped when the tire came loose and dropped to the ground.
"Sometimes the aluminum rusts and sticks together," he explained. And while I was still trying to think of how to thank the man, he had said goodbye to The Fiancé and was already back in his car.
Twenty minutes later, the spare was on and The Fiancé vowed that from now on, when he sees someone on the side of the road, he's going to stop to help. I hope he gets to kick the shit out of someone else's car.
And speaking of The F...
Wen: coasterprisoner is the brother I never had!
coasterprisoner: Doesn't she have an actual brother?
Instead, we spent two hours on the side of the road, waiting for a wrecker that never came after my parents' car blew a tire. I don't just mean that they got a flat. I mean the tire split from the inside rim to the outside.
The Fiancé and I were driving separately, and about five minutes after we passed my parents on I-75, my phone rang. It was my mom. "You're gonna have to come back and get us. We just got a flat tire."
The F volunteered to change the flat about fourteen times in an hour and a half until finally my mom relented and accepted the fact that even after three phonecalls, each more frantic and pissed off than the next, the roadside assistance might not be assisting us.
I have never changed a tire, so I was kind of looking forward to watching The Fiancé work. It was going well until after we got the lugnuts off (okay, until he got the lugnuts off) and tried to take the tire off.
"It should just--come--off!" He was pulling with all his weight and the tire wasn't budging. I sat on the side of the road (and it wasn't until that moment that it occurred to me that sitting on the side of 75 might not have been the smartest place for me to be, even though my mom had called over, "Are you guys still okay and safe!?" a few minutes before) and never even heard the guy who suddenly said, from behind me, "You got an aluminum tire that won't come off?"
I turned, expecting to see the roadside assistance guy. When I turned, still sitting, and came face to face with a pair of legs in khaki shorts and feet in flip-flops, I gaped. Some random stranger had just stopped to help?
He asked if the jack was sturdy, grabbed the wheel well, and then kicked the tire.
Some random stranger had just stopped to kick the shit out of my parents' car??
I know cars are tough. I know they're built to protect us. I know they are steel. I know that a human being is unlikely to harm a vehicle. But I still cringed when he took hold of the frame once more and karate-kicked the shit out of the tire. And then clapped when the tire came loose and dropped to the ground.
"Sometimes the aluminum rusts and sticks together," he explained. And while I was still trying to think of how to thank the man, he had said goodbye to The Fiancé and was already back in his car.
Twenty minutes later, the spare was on and The Fiancé vowed that from now on, when he sees someone on the side of the road, he's going to stop to help. I hope he gets to kick the shit out of someone else's car.
And speaking of The F...
Wen: coasterprisoner is the brother I never had!
coasterprisoner: Doesn't she have an actual brother?