When Good Tires Go Bad

Sounds like the subtitle to a Far Side cartoon, doesn't it? I wish I could see that one. I could use the laugh.

Last night, through the acute observation of the father of a friend of my son's, it was brought to my attention that my front passenger side tire is bad. Real bad. Like blow-up-on-the-highway-and-die-in-a-flaming-wreck kind of bad. My driver side tire is probably right behind it. So I think, Okay, I know what I'm doing tomorrow morning.

That was Saturday night. Today is Sunday. Nothing is open. And in one hour I have to go pick up a Russian pianist from his hotel and take him the theatre for his performance tonight.

Oy vey!

How can nothing be open? This is ridiculous! When you need a tire, you need a tire. This should be required to be a 24-hour/7-days a week service. I need assistance, dammit! Where are my minions! I need minions! I want this done NOW!

Oh, bother.

So. I'm going to stay off the highway. I'm going to drive really really slowly. And tomorrow morning, I will buy new tires.

Saints and Angels and Ministers of Grace preserve us. And Fairies. And lots and lots of Good People.

Keep your phone turned on. I might be calling you to come rescue me.