The great tire escapade.

This morning, after finishing my laundry I returned to my car. Drifting back toward the apartment, I realized it was making a worse noise than usual. It needs work done, so I thought nothing of it really. I returned to my parking spot. On a whim I checked my front passenger side tire to find it completely flat. A small flutter of panic filled my chest. I don’t have cash on hand, not usually. If I have it, I tend to spend it, and that’s just not good.

I returned my laundry to the apartment, grabbing my debit card and a dollar coin from my cat bank. My first stop was the gas station at the bottom of the hill. Their air pump possessed a crudely written out of order sign. Frustration mounting in my chest, I ventured toward the next one. I changed my coin for four quarters and hooked up the pump. This is where I learned to always read the directions first and not assume it will just work. I spent my dollar, but failed to hold down the little handle, so it didn’t fill the tire.

The gas station doesn’t do cash back yet, so I left it behind heading to the next one. Crossing the bridge, a nice (I assume so anyway) man told me my tired was flat. I nodded, yelled “I know” and waited for the light to change. I get to the station, get some money, and the necessary quarters to run the machine. This one is digital with a flat tire button. I fill the tire, then, since I still have time on the pump, check the other three. They were all lower than their recommended pressures. Maybe now my anti-lock brakes will behave. (That’s a different rant.)

At least my shift at the day job doesn’t start until 2:00 this afternoon leaving me plenty of time to be productive even after running around this morning. And be productive I shall.


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