I busted up on a curb and gave myself a flat tire earlier this week. It all went down right around 11pm when I was looking cute after being out at a nice dinner on the only night when I’ve left my cell phone at home in ages. This could have been a really, really bad situation. Luckily my lil’ baby kia was injured in a safe and relatively well lit parking lot of an apartment complex.
After feeling stupid and clueless for three minutes, I put on my thinking cap and tried to remember as much as I could about the last time I had a flat. There was a nice boy with me then who did all the work. I remember that it was a really hot summer afternoon, that I wanted to help, and that I thought he was being a little rough with my ‘91 Buick Century. The part about being rough is particularly hilarious as that car had definitely reached it’s hoopty status and was, in fact, on its last legs.
So in my time of need, I dug deep and pulled out all the tire changing knowledge I could muster:
-loosen and/or tighten the lug nuts in a star shaped pattern
-don’t screw up or you’ll bend your frame with the jack
-turn something a quarter turn before you raise and/or lower the jack all the way.
I sat and looked at all the tools my trunk had to offer and created a plan. I knew what to do, but I had a hell of a time getting two of the four lug nuts loose. I jumped on the wrench multiple times. I pushed the entire weight of my body into this fulcrum over and over. They would not budge. I even got close to ruining my favorite black patent leather pumps.
Then just as I was on the verge of giving up, the Lord graced me with remembering the pair of gold flats in my back seat and a renewed sense of purpose. Suddenly, I was back in the game.
In what seemed like no time at all, I was done. I felt so proud. I had been met with a dragon, and I had slayed it. I pulled into the gas station with just enough time to pump up my spare tire before they turned out the lights at midnight. My adrenaline was still running high by the time I arrived home and I did not fall asleep until 2am.
I had to be at work before 8am the next morning. Needless to say, I was exhausted but I soldiered through my day riding on the high that comes from knowing that I am lucky, blessed and am pretty much a bad ass. I wanted to wear a sign that said: “I can change a tire by myself, am much more prone to order a stout beer than any cocktail, and I can stand all day in my supercute BCBG, almond-toe, 3 inch heels.”
Maybe I don’t know where I’ll be living in a month. Maybe the economy has forced me to work two part time jobs so that I can pay my bills, but this week confidence is hot and so am I.
[...] and using a power drill to install blinds in my room all by myself feels almost as empowering as changing a flat tire when I’m alone at 11 o’clock at night. Accomplishing new things on my own gives me a huge sense of satisfaction. I’m like a [...]