Look, it wasn't my fault! I know you don't believe me, but it really wasn't! I was simply driving down the road, stopped at a stoplight, began thinking deeply about...hmmmm, I don't remember, then felt someone staring at me. I looked over to my right and there was a guy in a pickup mouthing the words, "You have a flat tire!"
My eyes widened and I mouthed back, "Thank you!"
I don't know what he thought I said, but he told me again and started pointing. I nodded my head and said, "Thank you!" again and smiled. He then drove off in a hurry.
Pulled off fast. So fast that I wonder if he thought, "Yup! I see the sharpie eyeliner. That's her, alright! I'm outta here!"
There was a gas station just down the road and even though there are bars on all the windows and doors and I see cops there all the time, I decided to pull into the lot and air up.
As soon as I opened my door I could hear a fast hissing sound. Oh, this can't be good.
I walked to the tire and-
Hey! Wait a minute! It's not flat!
Oh, oops. Wrong tire. I swear that guy pointed at the right tire.
It was my left tire and the air was slithering out like a rattlesnake with a grudge. I'd ran over a stupid bolt! I quickly went to grab the hose when I noticed that the hoses were cut. DUH! Bars on the windows! What else could I expect?!?
Or maybe they saw me coming, I don't know.
My place of work was less than a mile away and by the time I got there, the tire was pretty much flat. I have a great boss and he volunteered to put the spare on for me. He said I wasn't dressed to change a tire and right there I decided that I will never wear jeans to work again!
I shoveled everything out of my trunk and Ken (my boss) dug the spare out. I grabbed the owner's manual from the glove box, opened it, and
Hey! THAT'S where the spare keys are!
Travis and I have been having this debate for 4 years now about whether the dealer gave us the spare keys or not. I was pretty positive they hadn't and Travis swore they did. There have even been a few...discussions...about when was I going to get new spare keys since I couldn't seem to find the ones we were given (or not given!).
And there were the keys! Ok, Travis was right. Well, I take that back. I think he went to the dealer himself and planted them there. That's my story, anyway. ;-) I'm just glad some stranger at a repair shop didn't find them and think to themselves, "Who in the world would carry spare keys IN THEIR CAR???!!??" I'm so glad I don't have to answer that question because either way, the fact that I drove around for 4 years without a spare key or their supposition that I thought the glove box was a good place to store them, makes me look like an idiot and I'd hate for anyone to think that of me!
Well, I'll be off to the tire shop on Wednesday and I won't have to worry about anyone finding my spare keys. Where did I put those keys, anyway?
Travis is doing the happy dance on his blog tonight!