flat tire

My friend Tyler was driving down to Chesapeake from NoVa today.  He stopped half way in Richmond to meet me for lunch.  I suggested Kitchen 64 because it is right off the interstate.  I specifically told him (if he tells you otherwise, he's lying) to call me when he was about 20 or 30 minutes away so I could head to the restaurant.  He calls me and says he's 15 minutes away.  I book it to my car, and hop on the interstate.  I'm excited to hang with Tyler because it's never boring, and I was daydreaming about Kitchen 64's french fries all day.




Sure enough, I see a small black piece of tire on the road.  I didn't see it in time to swerve and miss it.  Although there is no doubt in my mind that if given enough time, I definitely could have swerved to miss it - I know playing Mario Kart will pay off one day...  But I didn't have enough time, and there were cars around me on both sides, so switching lanes to dodge it wasn't a possibility.  And BAM - I nailed it.  My tire immediately blew.  I was extremely close to my exit, so I continued to drive (rather slowly) off the exit ramp.  There at the end of the ramp was the usual homeless guy at the corner.  I thought... this could be awkward if my car breaks down right near the homeless guy... Luckily, I just drove on the rims for a bit and parked in a random office parking lot. (I know this last statement makes my Dad proud.)  I got out and took a good look at my tire.  Yep, flat.  Blown.  There's no patching this one.




I called Tyler immediately.   When he answers, I can hear lots of noise in the background so it's obvious he is already at the restaurant.  I tell him my situation and he replies with something along the lines of, "Ok.  Let me finish my beer and I'll come get you."  I actually wasn't surprised by this statement.  Tyler, being the awesome guy he is, pounded down his beer and drove (anything wrong with this?) to come get me while I was in my time of crisis.  Ok, ok, some of you are probably thinking, "Do you really not know how to change a tire??"  Well, why would I change my tire when a guy is there to do it for me? :)  Guys love helping out girls when they are damsels in distress.  Well, not Tyler.  He forced me to help him change my tire after he complained that of all the parking spots in the empty parking lot, I managed to park in the one with absolutely no shade.  I helped unscrew the lug nuts (not in a row I'll have you know, I alternated.  Impressed?!)  My pretty Acura looks stupid with a donut on it.  I'm so embarrassed :(  Tyler was kind enough to take a picture.

Me and my flat

The tire got changed fairly quickly - thank you Tyler!!!!  After we were both nice and sweaty, not to mention our hands dirty, Tyler drove us to the restaurant.  We got seated right away, but instead of taking our seats, we both went to the restrooms to wash our hands.  We ordered our food, and got to catch up.  It was really nice bringing each other up to speed on what has been going on in our lives.  Like I said earlier, things are never boring when Tyler and I hang out.  Weird things always tend to happen.




Tyler dropped me off back to my sad looking car.  I took the back roads to head back home (apparently you can't go more then 55mph on a donut), so taking the interstate wasn't an option.  I called my Dad to see if I was going to need to buy a pair of tires instead of one.  My Dad asked me what I ran over.  I told him a tire. My Dad's response:  You ran over a tire with your tire?  This was followed by a chuckle.  Yuck it up Dad, yuck it up.  No, I did not run over a full size tire with my tire.  It was a small black piece of what looked like a trucker's tire.  My Dad then questioned how I was able to change the flat tire, as if he knew I couldn't do it on my own.  I fessed up and told him that I assisted Tyler in changing the flat.




Uncle Dan followed me to Merchant's Tire to drop off my car.  I had to drive out to Powhatan to help my friend Sara with her dance recital.  I knew there was no way I could make it all the way out to Powhatan on a donut.  Uncle Dan and Aunt Paula said I could drive the Honda.  I asked if there was anything I should know about it, and my Uncle Dan said that sometimes it doesn't start.  Hmm...




Don't worry folks, I made it back to Powhatan.  The car and myself are in one piece.




It's been one heck of a day.




Until next time---





Xo,

Anna