Monday Morning Drama
I have the best and worst luck sometimes, I swear.
Also, I am a giant procrasinator and a ninny and a hundred other less flattering things, but whatever.
Backstory: I got Kharis's oil changed back in New Orleans pre-Katrina and I think I even chronicled this in my LJ about how the passenger front tire seemed low and I brought it to a tire place next to where Tommy worked and some good old boy gave me a lecture about how the front of the car has more weight than the back and the front tires are always going to look lower than the back tires, and gee, we took the tire off and put it in soapy water and there were no bubbles, so you are clearly out of your mind, lady, about there being a slow leak in this tire.
However, Mr. Jaye can attest to this that when we both lived at Hellrose Place (and the only thing I miss about that place, thank you, is the little air hose thing I could use to fill up the tire that did not have a slow leak), every couple of months or so my front tire would look suspiciously low. He practically had to beg me to fill it up with air, poor guy.
Anyway, I left Hellrose Place last month and filled the tire with air just before I left, but I've been noticing that when I take corners I can hear the tire squeal and I'm thinking maybe its getting lower again but I need to bring it to this automotive place on Richmond to get it inspected and the oil changed and the battery checked so I can get Texas plates and be road legal for the trip to Oak Alley next month, and also, so I can drive places without constantly checking my back mirror for cops and feeling like a goddamned fugitive.
But go back and read the part above where I say I am a procrastinator and it should come as no surprise to learn that I haven't,er um, done it yet.
But this morning I'm driving to work and the road sounds very loud even with all the rain pounding down and Gary Numan moaning about how he cannot be saved and this is not his face or his life, it's all for you, Damien, (or something like that) and when I go to stop for the red light ahead, the car pulls strangely to the right and, yep, the tire that doesn't have a slow leak, it is completely flat, people.
I swear and look up and where am I? Right at the corner of Richmond where the automotive shop I was planning to go is located.
What the hell? How lucky can a procrastinating idiot get?
I was in the middle lane but some nice man in an SUV notices my very flat tire and lets me into the right lane and I handily pull into the parking lot.
There are two guys in the body shop and I walk in and announce that:
"I have a very flat tire and I need that fixed. I also need an inspection and an oil change. Oh, and please check the battery while you're at it because it's old. I am a mess, I know."
One of the men took down all my info, asked for my insurance papers (which YAY I have had now for a couple of months) and then asked me if I needed a ride to work. Hell, yeah I did.
"I'll have one of the guys drive you. Just wait for the white Mercedes to pull up out front," he said.
So the Mercedes pulls up right in front of a deep ass puddle as I'm awkwardly leaping this, I drop my damn keys into the deepest part of the puddle and when I retrieved them apparently I didn't get them all because halfway to work I realized I didn't have my apartment keys.
What the fuck, people?
But anyway, I got to work and now I'm just waiting to see how much this is all going to cost me. Then I get to drive to DMV for my Texas plates. It's only taken me two years.
Also, I am a giant procrasinator and a ninny and a hundred other less flattering things, but whatever.
Backstory: I got Kharis's oil changed back in New Orleans pre-Katrina and I think I even chronicled this in my LJ about how the passenger front tire seemed low and I brought it to a tire place next to where Tommy worked and some good old boy gave me a lecture about how the front of the car has more weight than the back and the front tires are always going to look lower than the back tires, and gee, we took the tire off and put it in soapy water and there were no bubbles, so you are clearly out of your mind, lady, about there being a slow leak in this tire.
However, Mr. Jaye can attest to this that when we both lived at Hellrose Place (and the only thing I miss about that place, thank you, is the little air hose thing I could use to fill up the tire that did not have a slow leak), every couple of months or so my front tire would look suspiciously low. He practically had to beg me to fill it up with air, poor guy.
Anyway, I left Hellrose Place last month and filled the tire with air just before I left, but I've been noticing that when I take corners I can hear the tire squeal and I'm thinking maybe its getting lower again but I need to bring it to this automotive place on Richmond to get it inspected and the oil changed and the battery checked so I can get Texas plates and be road legal for the trip to Oak Alley next month, and also, so I can drive places without constantly checking my back mirror for cops and feeling like a goddamned fugitive.
But go back and read the part above where I say I am a procrastinator and it should come as no surprise to learn that I haven't,er um, done it yet.
But this morning I'm driving to work and the road sounds very loud even with all the rain pounding down and Gary Numan moaning about how he cannot be saved and this is not his face or his life, it's all for you, Damien, (or something like that) and when I go to stop for the red light ahead, the car pulls strangely to the right and, yep, the tire that doesn't have a slow leak, it is completely flat, people.
I swear and look up and where am I? Right at the corner of Richmond where the automotive shop I was planning to go is located.
What the hell? How lucky can a procrastinating idiot get?
I was in the middle lane but some nice man in an SUV notices my very flat tire and lets me into the right lane and I handily pull into the parking lot.
There are two guys in the body shop and I walk in and announce that:
"I have a very flat tire and I need that fixed. I also need an inspection and an oil change. Oh, and please check the battery while you're at it because it's old. I am a mess, I know."
One of the men took down all my info, asked for my insurance papers (which YAY I have had now for a couple of months) and then asked me if I needed a ride to work. Hell, yeah I did.
"I'll have one of the guys drive you. Just wait for the white Mercedes to pull up out front," he said.
So the Mercedes pulls up right in front of a deep ass puddle as I'm awkwardly leaping this, I drop my damn keys into the deepest part of the puddle and when I retrieved them apparently I didn't get them all because halfway to work I realized I didn't have my apartment keys.
What the fuck, people?
But anyway, I got to work and now I'm just waiting to see how much this is all going to cost me. Then I get to drive to DMV for my Texas plates. It's only taken me two years.