Sunday, December 14, 2008

Flat tires are not fun, along with various other activites that occured this weekend

This weekend was ridiculous. For starters I think between my boyfriend and I everything that could have gone wrong did. I don't know if it's just the fact that I am ready to go on break or what, but going back to Marion for a little R&R doesn't sound so bad.

Friday I was excited. The weekend had officially begun and I was getting out of Ada for a few hours to go to a Christmas party, or at least that was the plan. I'm driving down 30 music bumping and a smile on my face when I hear a loud "pop", see smoke, and can't get my car to keep up speed. I pull off the side of the road and discover my tire has blown out in five spots. Some random stranger pulls up behind me about ten minutes later, which totally freaks me out, and decides to save the day. Of course me, keeping it classy in my heels and dress pants, feel completely stupid and just smile while he works his magic, or at least tries. Whatever tire iron he has definitely doesn't fit; screw that idea.

I call up my best friend and ask him to venture out in the cold to come change my tire. He, being the great and lovely friend that he is, pulls up behind me about fifteen minutes later. He gets out of the truck, puts on his Carhart overalls, and gets to work. I watch of course, from the inside of his warm truck, while he puts on the spare. He fixes the problem in about ten minutes and I get back on my way.

Not ten minutes later my car starts to rumble and vibrate. I have no clue what's going on but keep driving anyways. Not a few seconds later I see half my tire flying across the road and more smoke. Seriously, at this point I don't think things can get much worse for the night. I pull over for the second time, annoyed and frustrated.

I call my friend back and ask him to turn around and come save me for the second time. I also call my boyfriend and tell him that my half an hour of being late is going to be a little longer that I thought. Oh yeah, and the fact that he should come pick me up so I didn't have to sit on the side of the road by myself (that's the calm version). About ten minutes later we're having a party on the side of the highway.

My friend Jared, my boyfriend and his brother-in-law and of course me and my car, one tire down, decided to have a reunion. The first thing my boyfriend does, after asking if I'm OK, is laugh. Oh I was so mad, I did not yet see the comedy in the situation. I was still cold, my car was still sitting on the side of the road, and I couldn't feel my toes.

So this trip that was supposed to take an hour and fifteen minutes, took about three. Talk about a crappy Friday night. Next time I might as well just walk, It would probably take about the same amount of time. A word to the wise, when traveling down rt. 30 bring the following: blankets, cell phone and multiple tires; you know, just in case!

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