The Pretty Girl is here visiting us for a couple of days. Yesterday she and I were driving to the library and as I pulled up to stop at a red light I noticed that the van was pulling hard to the right. While we were waiting for the light to turn green I noticed that the dashboard was seriously slanting down to the right. And as the light turned green and we started moving again, I heard a sound. A sound you don't want to hear. A bad sound.We had a flat tire.
Lots of things went through my mind. Things like:
- Mr. Dub is at work.
- Even if I call him and he can leave immediately it will take him forever to get here from work.
- It's stinking hot and I'll probably die of heat stroke before he could get here.
- The Little Biggy is at home.
- But probably has never changed a flat.
- And I'd have to stand out in the heat and walk him through it.
- And he might not drop everything and rush over here immediately.
- So I might as well put on my big girl panties and do it myself.
My Pretty Girl and I dug out the owner's manual just in case we needed it. We found the secret compartment where the jack is hidden. We found the hex nut that has to be turned to lower the spare tire out from under the van and we got the spare tire off and ready to go. We figured out how to get off the cover that hides the lug nuts. We got the lug nuts loosened a little. We placed the jack in the right spot. We got the jack going and raised the van enough to take off the lug nuts and get the tire off the van. We lifted the flat tire into the back of the van. We got the spare tire ready to go on.
(Let me just say here that it was hot. And the lug nuts were hot hot. And the tire was hot hot hot. We were dripping with sweat, filthy, and our fingers and hands were scorched. We were a couple of lady-like visions of feminine beauty, let me tell you. When I got home I discovered I had a big black smudge on my face where I'd wiped the sweat out of my eyes with my filthy dirty hands. Nice. Lovely.)
While we were standing there trying to figure out which side of the spare tire should face out, someone stopped to help us. This man:
That's Billy Bob Thornton, folks. And while I've always thought that Billy Bob was kind of a freak, it turns out that he's super nice. He's also working at Station 8 of the Cy-Fair Volunteer Fire Department.
Who knew?
Billy Bob was able to tell us which side of the spare tire faces out. In fact, he put it on for us, tightened the lug nuts, un-jacked the van, and said that while we obviously had everything under control and didn't need any man to help us, he was happy to.
That Billy Bob Thornton, he's a good guy. Although I was a little surprised to find him fighting fires and changing tires in Cypress, Texas on a hot summer day.
Chivalry is alive and well in Texas. And looks just like Billy Bob Thornton.
Here's a tip for all my friends: Get somebody to tell you today which side of the spare tire faces out. Just in case, you know?
WOAH! that's a good story. I was NOT expecting billy bob to show up and help you. I bet he just cultivates the freak persona for the press- of course he's nice!
ReplyDeletewas it really Billy Bob or just a look-a-like??
ReplyDeleteDid you happen to find out if he's still single and if so, did you mention your single, pretty sister in Dallas?
ReplyDeleteJen - I'm pretty sure he was a look-a-like. Why would Billy Bob be working at the volunteer fire department?
ReplyDeleteWendy - No! I can't believe I didn't even think of it. I'll pay more attention next time, I promise.
Wanna hear my flat tire story? If not, just stop reading now. Mark, Calysta and I were traveling into Albuquerque from the east--heading to Tempe for the graduation, and we had a flat-it just blew out--yikes--scary--I was driving and took my foot off the gas, wrestled the steering wheel and got off the highway--did I mention that we were going 65 mph in heavy traffic?--well I got off the road, regained pretty good control of the car, applied the brakes and came to a stop. Just before the car stopped, the tire went flying off. When I was stopped I could see it through my rear-view mirror. So, it was a rental so I called Avis. While I was messing around calling them, Mark got out and proceeded to put the weenie tire on. The guy at Avis told me since I didn't need him to come and change the tire, I could just come to the Albuquerque airport (I was only about 20 miles from there). So, I did, then they traded out my car and we were on the way again. I love rental cars, and I LOVE Avis.
ReplyDelete