Mike (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} iaminyourhead) wrote,@ 2007-12-05 12:43:00 |
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Whoo! Adventure!
So lately, I've been driving Sarah to work. This serves a few purposes. One, it cuts her commute, which allows her to get more sleep in the morning. Two, it normalizes my sleep schedule into a decidedly diurnal state. Three, it lets me drive in the near-western suburbs, which, since I've moved here, I've discovered are a blank spot in my internal map. (I Know the far-west suburbs fine, and Chicago itself? a cake-walk. But the near east suburbs? they're like a black hole in my head, which only the expressways cross.)
This morning however, we're about halfway there, and I have a blow-out. I've know my tires probably needed to be changed for quite some time, but I've just not had the money, and honestly, I'm more worried about the headlights and taillights. Anyways, I pukll off into this parking lot at the corner of route 64 and route 171, and think about what to do next. I look under the carpet in the back of the van, where I thought our spare tire was located, and no dice. Also no tire. We call Sean, who has to get immunized against India before going to India in a month, and can't really come to drive Sarah to work, because he'd miss getting his shots. We call Rob, who, because it's daytime, is not awake, and does not answer the phone. We call Devin, who similarly does not answer. I call Mom, who is in Washington, and can't really do anything. I call Dad, who can't walk because he recently and involuntarily decided to take up floor gymnastics, and pulled every muscle from his ass to his ankles. We sat in Denny's and laughed at our misfortune.
Then my mom calls back, and tells me to check UNDER the car for a spare. I hadn't thought of that. It was there. The polite, funny, and attractive empioyees of the Jiffy Lube that I was parked next to agreed to let me use their warm, dry garage to change my tire, and then, once I was in there, actually did the whole thing for me, while I flirted with the one female member of the team. They did so free of charge. Nice folks.
Sarah was an hour late for work, and I have a crappy donut spare, but all in all, it could ahve gone much worse.
So lately, I've been driving Sarah to work. This serves a few purposes. One, it cuts her commute, which allows her to get more sleep in the morning. Two, it normalizes my sleep schedule into a decidedly diurnal state. Three, it lets me drive in the near-western suburbs, which, since I've moved here, I've discovered are a blank spot in my internal map. (I Know the far-west suburbs fine, and Chicago itself? a cake-walk. But the near east suburbs? they're like a black hole in my head, which only the expressways cross.)
This morning however, we're about halfway there, and I have a blow-out. I've know my tires probably needed to be changed for quite some time, but I've just not had the money, and honestly, I'm more worried about the headlights and taillights. Anyways, I pukll off into this parking lot at the corner of route 64 and route 171, and think about what to do next. I look under the carpet in the back of the van, where I thought our spare tire was located, and no dice. Also no tire. We call Sean, who has to get immunized against India before going to India in a month, and can't really come to drive Sarah to work, because he'd miss getting his shots. We call Rob, who, because it's daytime, is not awake, and does not answer the phone. We call Devin, who similarly does not answer. I call Mom, who is in Washington, and can't really do anything. I call Dad, who can't walk because he recently and involuntarily decided to take up floor gymnastics, and pulled every muscle from his ass to his ankles. We sat in Denny's and laughed at our misfortune.
Then my mom calls back, and tells me to check UNDER the car for a spare. I hadn't thought of that. It was there. The polite, funny, and attractive empioyees of the Jiffy Lube that I was parked next to agreed to let me use their warm, dry garage to change my tire, and then, once I was in there, actually did the whole thing for me, while I flirted with the one female member of the team. They did so free of charge. Nice folks.
Sarah was an hour late for work, and I have a crappy donut spare, but all in all, it could ahve gone much worse.
