The Friday Night Flat Tire

Late Thursday night as I was taking a friend home from a SURPRISE evening out (more on that later), my low tire pressure light came on.  In times past, this light signified that the tire pressure was a pound or two below what the Toyota sensor likes (it likes 30 lbs - anything less and the light comes on).  The light had never been a crisis situation...until Friday night.

On Friday, Rosie delivered me to work and while I was inside being courteous, kind, and helpful, Rosie's rear passenger-side tire was leaking air at a rapid rate.  I imagine the voice of the Wicked Witch from The Wizard of Oz, "I'm melting!" although instead of melting the "Tire Witch" said, "I'm leaking!"  {That voice always gives me the willies.  You are a bad witch.  Water kills you.  Does she not bathe?  EVER?  How does that work?  I digress.}

As I left work, I walked around to the passenger side and noticed the extremely flat tire.  Flat as in pan (insert smallish pause for effect) cake flat.  The summer intern who parked his car next to mine said, "Whoa - you've got a flat!"  Yep!

I walked back towards the admin building hoping against hope that there would be an air compressor to atleast give me enough air to get to the gas station to get more air and then allow me to make it to the tire place.  On the way to the building, my supervisor was leaving the office and he said, "You're going the wrong way!"  Too which I replied, "I know.  Is there an air compressor inside the garage?"  He didn't believe so.  While we were standing there, my favorite co-worker attempted to zoom by on his bike.  He thought my waving was to say goodbye...until I hollered his name.  The hollering might've been unnecessary but if anyone was to have the answer to my Is there an air compressor? question, it would be my favorite co-worker who is a wealth of information.

He confirmed a big, fat negative to the air compressor and then he took over the situation. 

Summer intern and my favorite co-worker set about finding the jack and the spare.  My supervisor cracked me up with other car/tire stories.  I was informed my role was the damsel in distress and that I was, friends.

At 4:35, the jokester of our department was leaving.  He came out and stood watching the tire swap.  Being funny and all, he said to the diligent tire changers, "Hey guys!  This is like the pits at Nascar!!!  I'm going to start the clock!  Go! Go! GO!"

2 minutes and 25 seconds later - why is it that men make a competition out of everything?  I mean, I know some gals who do this too - but seriously, it was just a spare tire.  Of course, maybe they had a hot dinner waiting for them.  Me - I had a trip to the gym, Woodmans, and the cat.  I love my simple life.

I thanked the cast of characters and headed off to the tire place.  On my way, I thought it would be nice if I gave the tire guys a call and told them I was coming in - and I wanted to confirm that they were still there. 

Ring, ring.  The tire dude picked up and I told him my issue.  His reply, "Well, if the low pressure light is on, we'll check your tire pressure for you."  I replied to his oh-you're-a-girl-and-don't-know-about-your-car with, "Wow - thanks...but the tire is FLAT.  It's in my trunk.  I'm driving on the spare.  I'll be there in 5 minutes."  Some days it's not worth being a smarty-skirt.  I let it go.  Yes, I will be the little woman on the phone who panics when she sees the low tire pressure light.

After 30 minutes, I was informed I will be getting a brand new tire on Monday and yes, there was a situation with the side wall of my tire.  Because I bought the warranty, I only have to pay the tire disposal and the add-the-new-tire-to-your-rim fee.  I was warned to not take any lengthy trips this weekend (which seemed to be commonsense-ish but I let that go and smiled prettily). 

The end.