knock another one off the list!
15 Jun 2007 02:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kaigouMaking progress with building pantry & pass-through for recyclables. Got a lot done today, and around 6pm, realized I was out of soda. Quick trip to corner for fountain soda as a treat... except that at the stop sign heading out of the neighborhood, I heard the oddest sound -- somewhat like when the muffler's going/gone, but deeper. Quite peculiar. I turn off the music, roll down the window, and I'm listening as I drive, trying to figure it out. Half-mile down the road, it's louder, WHAMWHAMWHAM with this odd WHOOOOSH underneath. But the car's driving fine -- mostly -- no pull, no float, though it did seem to be acting like the engine was running rich, could be muffler...
Another half-mile, cresting the hill and only a quarter-mile or so from the gas station I realize the sound's become the one no one ever wants to hear:
WHAP
WHAP
WHAP
WHAP
That's not a flat tire. That's a frickin' rubber pancake.
Crap, crap, crap. I slow down and do the rest of the drive at about 10 miles an hour in the middle turning lane, hazards on. People are slowing down as they pass me, and I'm muttering under my breath, "stop staring at me, I'm fully aware this is the first time you've ever been able to pass me, go away."
Pull into the gas station, and naturally neither of the guys there have jacks in their cars. I can't find mine, though the spare's in good shape -- and then I try to call CP. Try again. And again, and again -- twelve times. (His battery died.) I even called a neighbor to find out if they were home to walk across the street and bang on the door for me, since by that point I was getting worried, and meanwhile my tire has a two-inch slit in it, I"m thinking, someone slashed my tire -- and it's only a little under two years old, what the hell! -- and by the time I finally left a message, I was royally pissed. But, still, Sears was only just over the highway overpass, and closer than the house. Might as well cash in that road hazard warranty.
Deep breath, start the car, caaaaaaarefully back up, turn around, manage to make the left in late-rush hour traffic, whapwhapwhapwhap with every slow revolution of the tires, and I'm just poised for the sound of the tire finally slicing free and hearing the gritty sound of alloy rim on concrete. Replacing a $75 tire, hell, whatever -- but a $200 rim is another matter altogether.
At this point, I'll need to make a left onto the service road so I can then make a right into Sears and come back to almost the same point I'd been at, and go around the building, because noooo, Sears couldn't possibly just let you go straight and then make a left into the auto-area, nooooo, they make you go past the building and then come back down the entire length. If it weren't for the worry about that rim, I would've just pulled straight down the embankment, to hell with this. But, nothing to be done, so I get in the left-hand lane -- hazards on, car going exxxxxtra-sloooooow -- and try to ignore the people coming up behind me and looking baffled at the hazards.
Red light. I sit there. Along comes oh-so-helpful Mister Gimme Money Guy (one of the many denizens), who says, "whoa, your tire's way flat! that's looking bad!"
No shit, moron. So I just wave, and he's all, "do you need any help?" Light turned green, and I went (sloooowly), while thinking, what, are you offering to help me carry it over the overpass? Sheesh. And person in another car slows down to pointedly stare at my car, and I finishing checking (with open door) on the rear tire, and then stare back just as pointedly. I am not a freak; I always drive 5mph with the radio off and the window down and my head out the window and my hazards on, and I always roll to a stop and then open my door to look at my back driver's side tire.
One truck behind me, realizing hazards + slow speed = should probably pass. When he can, he makes a point of zooOOOOooming past, like, oh, check me out, I am awesome muscley truck! Then truck #2 does the same: comes up behind, then realizes hazards + slow-moving car, and again with the annoying big-truck nose twitch while the guy tries to work up the nerve to pass me.
I should note that at this point, I was going about 5mph at most -- and the rest of traffic? Not much more than twenty. We're not talking the Autobahn, here.
Truck #3 does the same, then truck #4, right as I'm finally coasting up to the second light, where I'll be able to make the irritating needless left onto the service road. Big truck pulls up, slows down, and passenger leans out to yell, "you're driving on a flat tire!"
Grrrrr.
I yell back, "no kidding, Captain Fucking Obvious!"
The truck pulls off.
I suddenly feel much better.
I do believe I've been waiting my entire life to have a reason to say that to a complete stranger.
$75 bucks, one replacement tire covered by warranty, second new tire to match replacement, balancing complete, two hours wasted, and I'm finally home... and reasonably satisifed that I have now checked off one more thing from my personal mission list of Things To Do Before I Can Die.
Go me.
Another half-mile, cresting the hill and only a quarter-mile or so from the gas station I realize the sound's become the one no one ever wants to hear:
WHAP
WHAP
WHAP
WHAP
That's not a flat tire. That's a frickin' rubber pancake.
Crap, crap, crap. I slow down and do the rest of the drive at about 10 miles an hour in the middle turning lane, hazards on. People are slowing down as they pass me, and I'm muttering under my breath, "stop staring at me, I'm fully aware this is the first time you've ever been able to pass me, go away."
Pull into the gas station, and naturally neither of the guys there have jacks in their cars. I can't find mine, though the spare's in good shape -- and then I try to call CP. Try again. And again, and again -- twelve times. (His battery died.) I even called a neighbor to find out if they were home to walk across the street and bang on the door for me, since by that point I was getting worried, and meanwhile my tire has a two-inch slit in it, I"m thinking, someone slashed my tire -- and it's only a little under two years old, what the hell! -- and by the time I finally left a message, I was royally pissed. But, still, Sears was only just over the highway overpass, and closer than the house. Might as well cash in that road hazard warranty.
Deep breath, start the car, caaaaaaarefully back up, turn around, manage to make the left in late-rush hour traffic, whapwhapwhapwhap with every slow revolution of the tires, and I'm just poised for the sound of the tire finally slicing free and hearing the gritty sound of alloy rim on concrete. Replacing a $75 tire, hell, whatever -- but a $200 rim is another matter altogether.
At this point, I'll need to make a left onto the service road so I can then make a right into Sears and come back to almost the same point I'd been at, and go around the building, because noooo, Sears couldn't possibly just let you go straight and then make a left into the auto-area, nooooo, they make you go past the building and then come back down the entire length. If it weren't for the worry about that rim, I would've just pulled straight down the embankment, to hell with this. But, nothing to be done, so I get in the left-hand lane -- hazards on, car going exxxxxtra-sloooooow -- and try to ignore the people coming up behind me and looking baffled at the hazards.
Red light. I sit there. Along comes oh-so-helpful Mister Gimme Money Guy (one of the many denizens), who says, "whoa, your tire's way flat! that's looking bad!"
No shit, moron. So I just wave, and he's all, "do you need any help?" Light turned green, and I went (sloooowly), while thinking, what, are you offering to help me carry it over the overpass? Sheesh. And person in another car slows down to pointedly stare at my car, and I finishing checking (with open door) on the rear tire, and then stare back just as pointedly. I am not a freak; I always drive 5mph with the radio off and the window down and my head out the window and my hazards on, and I always roll to a stop and then open my door to look at my back driver's side tire.
One truck behind me, realizing hazards + slow speed = should probably pass. When he can, he makes a point of zooOOOOooming past, like, oh, check me out, I am awesome muscley truck! Then truck #2 does the same: comes up behind, then realizes hazards + slow-moving car, and again with the annoying big-truck nose twitch while the guy tries to work up the nerve to pass me.
I should note that at this point, I was going about 5mph at most -- and the rest of traffic? Not much more than twenty. We're not talking the Autobahn, here.
Truck #3 does the same, then truck #4, right as I'm finally coasting up to the second light, where I'll be able to make the irritating needless left onto the service road. Big truck pulls up, slows down, and passenger leans out to yell, "you're driving on a flat tire!"
Grrrrr.
I yell back, "no kidding, Captain Fucking Obvious!"
The truck pulls off.
I suddenly feel much better.
I do believe I've been waiting my entire life to have a reason to say that to a complete stranger.
$75 bucks, one replacement tire covered by warranty, second new tire to match replacement, balancing complete, two hours wasted, and I'm finally home... and reasonably satisifed that I have now checked off one more thing from my personal mission list of Things To Do Before I Can Die.
Go me.
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no subject
Date: 15 Jun 2007 07:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 15 Jun 2007 03:33 pm (UTC)It's so satisfying to see someone reach one of their life's goals. ^__^ I'm still working on that one.
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Date: 19 Jun 2007 11:51 am (UTC)"Captain Fucking Obvious." Must remember for future reference.