Tires. Not complicated items, right? They’re round and they hold air. So when my right front tire began to leak, we took it in for analysis. Turns out there’s a puncture on the side that can’t be fixed.
“Hey,” I said, “If we get a new tire then we can be retired!” This was a groaner, I’ll admit.It was a very slow leak, so I drove to America’s Tire. I hung up on a phone call as I drove into the parking lot, and pressed the “hung up phone” picture on my steering wheel. Unfortunately, this button is also the horn. Don’t get me started on the folks who design cars.
Eventually a guy came and measured each tire’s air pressure. Naturally the one I told him had a problem was the one with the most air in it. He stared at me like I’m some kind of idiot. Then he glanced at my arm, which looks like I’m a drug addict.
In fact, I had an MRI and then blood work this week, both of which were less embarrassing than this trip to the tire shop. Finally I left, and am now adding this place to the list of places where I cannot show my face again. Or my arms. Or my car or its tires. Sheesh.
A good way to hide when you're embarrassed, is to keep your nose in one of my books. See? You're already multi-tasking.