Another flat
I had another flat tire last night, which was a minor nuisance. Evidently someone else's car had a major blowout ahead of me and I hit a bit of resulting road shrapnel on the on-ramp to the highway. I am, at this point, quite familiar with the whum-whum-whum sound of a tire going flat, I pulled over and had a look, but all of the tires still looked good. I got back in, drove, heard more whum-whum-whum and pulled off again at the next exit. Still no indication of which tire was the culprit or evidence of a fast deflate. I seem to have lost my pressure gauge, so I couldn't test any of them beyond looking and poking and kicking a bit.
Since it was cold and raining, I wasn't much in the mood for roadside triage, so I decided to risk the drive to my intended destination, the Whole Foods in Alexandria, since it had a garage where I could change a tire in some level of comfort. A bit of slower-than-usual and cautious driving later, I was able to see that the front driver's side tire was a smidge lower than the others.
So I did my shopping (since I was going to be using their garage, I might as well legitimize my use of two parking space -one with the car and one with me and the tire change equipment). Then I sat down, quite literally, and got about changing my tire. I may have even sang some sea chanteys under my breath during the minutes it took to jack the car up.
I had one person stop to offer to help when I was still at a stage that I could do it all myownself, so I thanked him and said I was okay. A store employee, rounding up shopping carts, came by next and likewise offered to help, and she stuck around to be sure I'd be okay.
While I do know very well how to change a tire, and I have pretty good equipment, the one thing I do not have is much upper body strength. Once the car was raised, I found I was still stuck because I couldn't get the lugnuts off. This has happened before (this is flat tire number five or so, I think, in my driving history), and sometimes I've managed the problem by jumping up and down on the lugwrench, and sometimes by calling the place that put the tire on and yelling at them to send someone to get it back off.
This time I had to ask the help of the next person who wandered over to see if I needed help. A helpful fellow came over to see if I was okay, at which point I asked if he could apply some greater male strength to the task. He applied some more force and got the lugnuts off.
I pulled off the old tire and put on the spare. Helpful Guy looked at the way I was sitting on the ground and asked if that was some sort of yoga pose. I suggested Downward Facing Mechanic. I also got a compliment on the fact that I knew the proper way to tighten lugnuts (doesn't every girl know this?). While I was getting the spare tightened up, he went to his car and got me a bunch of tissues to clean off my hands, because I was getting a bit grimy.
I offered him brownies in thanks. He declined. The store assistant declined as well when I made the same offer to her.
The store assistant gave the lugnuts a few more twists to make sure the spare was on there securely, and I started the slow process of jacking the car back down. I told my kind assistants that this would take a few minutes and they didn't need to wait, I'd be fine. We did one more tightening of the lugnuts once the car was on the ground again, and I was good to go. I was very grateful for their help. They smiled and said goodnight and went back about their lives.
(as a small side note, it was only after I was back in the car and headed out to dance class [the intended place for the brownies and the juice] that I realized I'd never even asked the names of either of the people who helped me. Also, RHB suggested that the fact that I hadn't even considered trying to get Helpful Guy's phone number is definite proof that at this point I've utterly and truly Given Up and really am going to Die Old, Alone, and Eaten by the Cats. oh well. I think I ought to invest in a longer lugwrench so I can do this on my own next time*.)
Dance class was good, the first I've made it to in a month, what with the job stress and the plague. One of the dancers whom I hadn't seen in a while greeted me and said that I looked relaxed and so things must not be that bad.
I cackled at that one. I have a good cackle.
My car is at the mechanic's today. With luck, I'll get it back in time to have dinner with chibent, and deliver the last of my brownies in the process. Then I have fond dreams of getting enough sleep. Today is also the last day of the antibiotics, which in theory should mean that I'm finally better, but the coughing is still coming a little too easily, so I'm hoping I won't be back at the doctor next week. There's a big dance this weekend, but I'm not yet up for a full two-night program and so will be doing some level of taking it easy instead. Still, I can probably get myself out for some dancing and socializing with my friends. As long as they understand I'm not bringing any more brownies.
* With the right mechanical equipment I shouldn't need anyone else, right? *snicker*
Since it was cold and raining, I wasn't much in the mood for roadside triage, so I decided to risk the drive to my intended destination, the Whole Foods in Alexandria, since it had a garage where I could change a tire in some level of comfort. A bit of slower-than-usual and cautious driving later, I was able to see that the front driver's side tire was a smidge lower than the others.
So I did my shopping (since I was going to be using their garage, I might as well legitimize my use of two parking space -one with the car and one with me and the tire change equipment). Then I sat down, quite literally, and got about changing my tire. I may have even sang some sea chanteys under my breath during the minutes it took to jack the car up.
I had one person stop to offer to help when I was still at a stage that I could do it all myownself, so I thanked him and said I was okay. A store employee, rounding up shopping carts, came by next and likewise offered to help, and she stuck around to be sure I'd be okay.
While I do know very well how to change a tire, and I have pretty good equipment, the one thing I do not have is much upper body strength. Once the car was raised, I found I was still stuck because I couldn't get the lugnuts off. This has happened before (this is flat tire number five or so, I think, in my driving history), and sometimes I've managed the problem by jumping up and down on the lugwrench, and sometimes by calling the place that put the tire on and yelling at them to send someone to get it back off.
This time I had to ask the help of the next person who wandered over to see if I needed help. A helpful fellow came over to see if I was okay, at which point I asked if he could apply some greater male strength to the task. He applied some more force and got the lugnuts off.
I pulled off the old tire and put on the spare. Helpful Guy looked at the way I was sitting on the ground and asked if that was some sort of yoga pose. I suggested Downward Facing Mechanic. I also got a compliment on the fact that I knew the proper way to tighten lugnuts (doesn't every girl know this?). While I was getting the spare tightened up, he went to his car and got me a bunch of tissues to clean off my hands, because I was getting a bit grimy.
I offered him brownies in thanks. He declined. The store assistant declined as well when I made the same offer to her.
The store assistant gave the lugnuts a few more twists to make sure the spare was on there securely, and I started the slow process of jacking the car back down. I told my kind assistants that this would take a few minutes and they didn't need to wait, I'd be fine. We did one more tightening of the lugnuts once the car was on the ground again, and I was good to go. I was very grateful for their help. They smiled and said goodnight and went back about their lives.
(as a small side note, it was only after I was back in the car and headed out to dance class [the intended place for the brownies and the juice] that I realized I'd never even asked the names of either of the people who helped me. Also, RHB suggested that the fact that I hadn't even considered trying to get Helpful Guy's phone number is definite proof that at this point I've utterly and truly Given Up and really am going to Die Old, Alone, and Eaten by the Cats. oh well. I think I ought to invest in a longer lugwrench so I can do this on my own next time*.)
Dance class was good, the first I've made it to in a month, what with the job stress and the plague. One of the dancers whom I hadn't seen in a while greeted me and said that I looked relaxed and so things must not be that bad.
I cackled at that one. I have a good cackle.
My car is at the mechanic's today. With luck, I'll get it back in time to have dinner with chibent, and deliver the last of my brownies in the process. Then I have fond dreams of getting enough sleep. Today is also the last day of the antibiotics, which in theory should mean that I'm finally better, but the coughing is still coming a little too easily, so I'm hoping I won't be back at the doctor next week. There's a big dance this weekend, but I'm not yet up for a full two-night program and so will be doing some level of taking it easy instead. Still, I can probably get myself out for some dancing and socializing with my friends. As long as they understand I'm not bringing any more brownies.
* With the right mechanical equipment I shouldn't need anyone else, right? *snicker*