If cars had 8 tires, I’d be fucked.
The first tire went flat last week after an unfortunate run in with a curb. I got it fixed on Monday. The rim got bent, so fixing it cost $89. Not too bad. Got it fixed, good to go… happy happy.
Wednesday night, I stayed in the city at zyzzyva’s. Poor zyzz might as well be running a hotel, what with me staying there, and Jack Batty too. Luckily, he has an imaginary roommate, so I wasn’t in the way. Cut to me getting up to go to work Thursday morning. As I’m walking to my car, which, since this is San Francisco, is like 12 blocks away, I noticed a car with 2 flat tires. Weird, think I, and keep on walking. Being as it was about 7 am and pre-coffee, I didn’t make any kind of mental link between that car, and the fact that just about every car I passed had at least one flat tire.
So imagine my surprise when I get to my car 3 hours later, and find my rear passenger tire is flat! Not just flat, but flat. Rim to the ground flat. I did the most logical thing to do at the moment–stand and stare dumbly at the tire, blinking rapidly in the hopes that it’s an illusion. Seeing the other cars around me, I realize it’s not. Some fuckers went down the street and stabbed everyone’s tires. Some of us were lucky and only got one tire, others got both curbside tires poked. Fuck, I think. I’m in the city. I can’t take BART to work in Mountain View! I don’t even know how to get to the train station so I can take Caltrain! So I stand and look astounded, and do the next most useful thing: burst into tears. It’s been a rough week.
I stop weeping like a dork and drive to the nearest gas station on Mission St. The attendant there was wonderful, after insightfully noting that “That’s a damn flat tire”, and making sympathetic, angry noises when I told him of what happened, he offered to put air in it to see if it’d leak, and if it did, he’d put my spare (which I’d been driving on on my left driver side all last week) on so I could get to work. He really didn’t have to be that helpful. He put air in for me, listened, sprayed water on it to see if there was a hiss, and there wasn’t. Great. Drove to work, after thanking him profusely for being so kind, and the tire held up wonderfully.
Cut to 4 am last night/this morning. Went to a party in the city (again, you’d think I’d learn…) and came out to two flat tires on the passenger’s side. Seems as if I wasn’t as lucky as I thought the other day, and both my tires had been stabbed. I found both the holes. Of course, they’re on the sidewall, so I have to get new tires, not have them fixed. The drive to the city from San Jose, with two passengers, must have been too much, and the front tire went flat too. My two friends that were with me (both men, who were all “yah, no AAA, that’s for wimps, we can change the tire!”) decided we’d put the spare on the right front, and fill the back tire, because it was only “very low”, not flat. This sounded like a plan. We start the process, only to find I am curiously lacking a tire iron. Ok, fuck this, call in AAA. Around 5:30 am, AAA shows up, put my spare on, and filled the rear tire. Enough for me to make it home…
What the fuck? Do I look like I can afford two new tires? I can’t. To add insult to injury, not a single tire on my car is over a year and a half old–I got brand new tires right after I got the car. Does anyone else see the black raincloud following me? What have I done to anger the Rubber Gods? (Um, don’t anaswer that, on second thought!)
And to the pricks that stabbed my tires–aah, you’re not even worth the rant.
Thanks for the kindness. My car is getting fixed today, so hopefully I will be the proud owner of two new tires. Let’s see how long they last…