We last saw our heroine anxiously awaiting a AAA truck on the side of 70E bound, hoping her car did not get hit, smashed, or any strangers appear to proposition her…and behold, there was a flashing of light…
S o the AAA guy arrives, and he says, “I thought you had an Accord.” (Dad must have gotten our cars mixed up. Ooops. We have two Accords, two Civics, and 1 Prelude—that’s dad’s man car.) Anyway. We pry the spare out of the trunk.
“So where’s the bolt?”
Apparently, the person before me liked to fancy up his car, so he had special hubcaps put on. I don’t really mind them. But this means that to get the hubcap off, there must be a special bolt.
It is not in my trunk. (The whole time I’m thinking, I must clean out my trunk, I must clean out my trunk…).
“Maybe it’s in the glove box.” The AAA guy said. He was a big, brawny guy, about my dad’s age, and I could tell he was thinking, Does this girl know anything about cars? I wanted to tell him, yes, I do, I can change spark plugs! But I didn’t.
Glove box? Where are we, England? But yes, it was in the very bottom of the compartment. I handed it over triumphantly, then perched myself on the guard rail and watched him jack up my car and change the tire, all the while thinking of Ralphie and his dad in A Christmas Story.
He got the spare (AKA, “doughnut”) on, and dropped the huge and deflated tire and rim into my trunk. “DO NOT go over 50 MPH, or you could blow it out,” he said. (I knew that, having read the owners’ manual while I waited.)
So I thanked him, got back in my car, and merged into traffic—going 45 mph.
I knew this wasn’t going to work. So instead of creating road rage incidences on 70, I decided to take a side road—Livingston Ave.
Now Livingston is not in the best part of town, for the most part. It runs by Children’s, and it runs past Capital (my alma mater) and would take me back to Reynoldsburg. But it wasn’t a place I wanted to be at almost midnight.
But my car and I creeped along, going about 35-40. There were entirely too many people out for my taste—It’s midnight! go to bed!
Finally I pulled into my parents’ driveway, where my dad gave me the keys to the other Civic and I drove home. He took my car to Firestone this morning (at 6:30, I have an awesome father) and the new tire was on before my work day had even started. Joy!
Went there post-work, picked it up, and drove it back here. So I am happy to have my car back. And extremely tired. And I do not want any more car adventures.
But I will definitely renew my AAA membership.