"Yesterday I found a parking space. Yea! Of course I had to turn around because it was on the other side of the street. Big deal, right? But...I heard and felt this tiny, infinitesimal screeching, scraping, metallic sound, ( at least that's what I told my husband, it really was LOUD) as I backed out. Ah, that's nothing it's happened many times before, and exited the car. That's when I was alerted by two very helpful ladies who informed me my tire was flat. How they knew instantly and I was clueless is beyond me. Anyway, it wasn't just a flat tire it was a shredded tire. Called my Auto Club Association "please send someone out to change the tire." They said it would be a few minutes. Did you know they asked if they could use the GPS read from my iPhone for directions? So advanced. My first thought was, if I'm going to deal with a flat tire then I needed a piece of pie. Ed's coffee shop was across the street waiting for me.I thought this called for solid straight forward apple pie, no apple pie.
Sat in the car waiting, eating pie, drinking water ( at least it's not fattening) charging my iPhone and listening to KCRW while draining my battery. Who knew? Forty minutes pass, I call again "where is the tow truck?" "We have no order for a tow truck." "What?" Well it turns out there is difference between a tow truck and Men Who Fix Tires. I mean who knew there was a difference? Did it all change in the digital age. Tow truck is what I know. But the auto club had asked for ...you know what? I have no idea what they asked for. But now I just call them Men Who Fix Tires. Once we got the semantics taken care of, they arrive in 15 minutes. No problem because the time wasn't wasted. I've just eaten a piece of pie, learned about Frata Luca Pacioli friend of Leonard Da Vinci and the man who invented double entry accounting in the 15th century plus a poem by Robert Hass, former Poet Laureate of the United States where he talks about buying a his first blue suit to wear to memorial services for friends. Certainly not wasted time. Men Who Fix Tires call me and ask me to step out of my car. Now, this sounds like a police TV show to me, then I realize they're trying to find me.
Men Who Fix Tiers are very intelligent, they want to know about my husband's service to the nation (veterans license plates) When did he serve, where did he serve, how much they love history, what did I think about the Presidential debate, what about the President not meeting with Netanyahu. We're talking intellects and I need Men Who Fix Tires. He asks me to drive around to his car and that is when I discover I've drained all of the power from the battery with my eating and listening and IPhone charging. He charges the car, put's on the spare and off I go to Globe Tires. Pull in and this nice gentleman says how much he likes my haircut!!!! Has anyone mentioned a haircut to you in a tire store??? Not only that but he thought I was very pretty. Huh? Remember we're in a tire fixing store. Thanked him and went to the desk. they were very efficient and I was ready to go when I asked him what are people called who change tires? Are they Men Who Fix Tires? Because I had been confused with the tow truck. This got the whole office into a fit of laughter. Made their day. I'm sure they'll be telling everyone about this woman who calls Roadside Assistance, Men Who Fix Tires. Of course now, I'm so knowledgeable I just call them MWFTs!
It was a hot day and the man at the desk asked me if I liked cold water. "No thank you, I prefer room temperature water," well he did too. Of course, he used to chew ice cubes. "Chew ice cubes?" "Yes I was in pain and it helped to chew ice cubes." Foolish me asked what kind of pain, he said he had three hemorrhoids, and they were so painful that he chewed ice cubes to distract himself. But he got them operated on and he "was only in pain for six days." "Oh, how nice" I said. Way too much information. Better to just eat pie!