Monday, November 11, 2002
Thar she blows!
About a year ago, I had a slow leak in one of my car tires. I tried to put on the spare tire so I could get the leaky one fixed, but the spare wouldn't fit. My wheel had 5 bolts on it, but the spare tire only had 4 holes. And it's funny how much time I spent literally "spinning my wheels" trying to figure out how to make the tire fit. I finally realized that at some point when I had a tire replaced on my car, the store must have accidently swapped my spare with another car's. I was able to get the leaky tire fixed, but the store didn't sell spares. I thought to myself, "I should find another place to get a new spare tire".
Fast forward to this summer. I needed some work done on my car, so I brought it straight to the Pontiac Dealer, figuring that they of all places would sell spare tires for their own models. They didn't. I thought to myself, "I should find another place to get a new spare tire".
Fast forward to one week ago. My car starts making new rattling noises. The dashboard vibrates violently at times. My car is old and falling apart, so I don't give it much thought.
Fast forward to today. I'm driving back to work after going home for lunch, and my dashboard is rattling like crazy. I hear a loud rumbling noise outside. I think to myself "durnit, why is that truck driving so close behind me?" My rear-view mirror is sitting in the back seat because the glue doesn't stick anymore, so I'm having trouble looking behind me to find the truck. I then start smelling some burnt rubber. I'm thinking "durnit, not only is that truck loud and tailgating me, but it STINKS too!" Then the little light goes on. There is no truck. It's me.
I pull on to the shoulder of the freeway, and notice that where my rear tire once was, there is now a piece of black rubber sort of wrapped around the wheel. Like all good Southern California residents, I call AAA. About 5 minutes later, a tow truck pulls up. I don't want the driver to think that I can't change a tire, so I start explaining to him the reasons why I can't simply use the spare: "you see, there were 5 bolts but only 4 holes..." He asks me "have you called anyone yet?" My first thought was "um, I called YOU!" but then I realize he isn't from AAA. He's part of our freeway assist system, which has trucks driving around L.A. to help change flat tires, fill overheated radiators, or even give you a gallon of gas. Bravo, it's a excellent system. But since AAA is on their way, I tell him I don't need his help.
Another 5 minutes go by, and another tow truck pulls up. I see the AAA logo. Excellent. I don't want the driver to think that I can't change a tire, so I start explaining to him the reasons why I can't simply use the spare: "you see, there were 5 bolts but only 4 holes..." He says, "oh, your REAR tire is flat? We'll need to send another truck. I can only do front-end tows."
Another 5 minutes go buy, and another tow truck pulls up. I don't want the driver to think that I... oh, you know the drill. But this guy is both willing and able to bring my car to a garage.
Unless I want to relive the afternoon's events, I really need to replace both rear tires. So two-hundred-sixty-nine dollars and thirty-three cents later, my dashboard no longer rattles.
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About a year ago, I had a slow leak in one of my car tires. I tried to put on the spare tire so I could get the leaky one fixed, but the spare wouldn't fit. My wheel had 5 bolts on it, but the spare tire only had 4 holes. And it's funny how much time I spent literally "spinning my wheels" trying to figure out how to make the tire fit. I finally realized that at some point when I had a tire replaced on my car, the store must have accidently swapped my spare with another car's. I was able to get the leaky tire fixed, but the store didn't sell spares. I thought to myself, "I should find another place to get a new spare tire".
Fast forward to this summer. I needed some work done on my car, so I brought it straight to the Pontiac Dealer, figuring that they of all places would sell spare tires for their own models. They didn't. I thought to myself, "I should find another place to get a new spare tire".
Fast forward to one week ago. My car starts making new rattling noises. The dashboard vibrates violently at times. My car is old and falling apart, so I don't give it much thought.
Fast forward to today. I'm driving back to work after going home for lunch, and my dashboard is rattling like crazy. I hear a loud rumbling noise outside. I think to myself "durnit, why is that truck driving so close behind me?" My rear-view mirror is sitting in the back seat because the glue doesn't stick anymore, so I'm having trouble looking behind me to find the truck. I then start smelling some burnt rubber. I'm thinking "durnit, not only is that truck loud and tailgating me, but it STINKS too!" Then the little light goes on. There is no truck. It's me.
I pull on to the shoulder of the freeway, and notice that where my rear tire once was, there is now a piece of black rubber sort of wrapped around the wheel. Like all good Southern California residents, I call AAA. About 5 minutes later, a tow truck pulls up. I don't want the driver to think that I can't change a tire, so I start explaining to him the reasons why I can't simply use the spare: "you see, there were 5 bolts but only 4 holes..." He asks me "have you called anyone yet?" My first thought was "um, I called YOU!" but then I realize he isn't from AAA. He's part of our freeway assist system, which has trucks driving around L.A. to help change flat tires, fill overheated radiators, or even give you a gallon of gas. Bravo, it's a excellent system. But since AAA is on their way, I tell him I don't need his help.
Another 5 minutes go by, and another tow truck pulls up. I see the AAA logo. Excellent. I don't want the driver to think that I can't change a tire, so I start explaining to him the reasons why I can't simply use the spare: "you see, there were 5 bolts but only 4 holes..." He says, "oh, your REAR tire is flat? We'll need to send another truck. I can only do front-end tows."
Another 5 minutes go buy, and another tow truck pulls up. I don't want the driver to think that I... oh, you know the drill. But this guy is both willing and able to bring my car to a garage.
Unless I want to relive the afternoon's events, I really need to replace both rear tires. So two-hundred-sixty-nine dollars and thirty-three cents later, my dashboard no longer rattles.
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