Ok, stop! Back the choo choo up.
I'm a girl. I don't do automotive repairs. I don't like grease or dirt, or sweating, or dirt (did I say that already?). So I said "what are you talking about? Me? Get under there and kill myself trying to change a tire? What if the car falls on me?" He said "don't put your body under the car, Love. It's a tire, not an engine. What other choice do you have? I can't leave work, you're gonna have to figure it out or call a friend to come and get you where you need to be". Well, that was just fine and dandy! Now I've got to change a tire? No, no - first, LEARN to change a tire, then change a tire. Never mind that I've been fasting for the blood work and I'm starving. Never mind that by the time I get to the lab, I'll be wasted away. (insert rediculous whine here).
Well, there was nothing to be done. I had to face the giant. So, see above for the hilarity that was my adventure in a tire changing experience.
After it was done, I actually felt proud of myself. I was kind of...beaming. I strolled into that tire joint and told the service man all proud like "I had a flat". He just stared at me. "I mean, I had to put the spare on, by myself, and I've never done that before, but what can you do, right? I mean, it's gotta be changed!" Stupid giggle here. A slight nod from the man. "That is to say, I hope I did it right" (giggle snort here). One side of his mouth slightly curves as he tries to give me a half-hearted "lady, please shut up" smile. I let out a nervous cough. "So, I'm hoping it'll be ok? I couldn't find a nail or anything obvious.." "We'll look at it", he tells me. A half hour later, I'm still beaming. It's like my whole day is better because I got to do something new and challenging and I'm proud of myself, which doesn't happen too often. (unfortunately)
I go back to the desk when my name is called and he hands me my keys. "You're all set", he tells me. I am? "Well, what was wrong? Nail? Glass? Hard metal object embedded in the side?" Now he smiles - the big kind. The kind that says "brace yourself, stupid". "Your air cap was loose". Eh?? Come again? "Your air cap...it was unscrewed...the air just drained out". Say what, now? "So there was nothing wrong. We checked it all over. The tire is fine and you're good to go". At which point he hands me the keys and says "no charge" and smiles that irritating smile again. I wanted to punch him in the face. But my hands were still tired from the tire changing episode. Talk about letting the "air" out of my tire! Well! I just smiled politely and said "wow...thanks then...I guess...for that...(cough)." And there you have it.
When I called AB and told him what had happened to the tire, he said "well, you could have just pumped it up in the garage. We have a compressor, you know?" Really? Do we??? What the frig is a compressor??? How would I know that? How could I have known that a flat tire, FLAT, was only the result of the air being let out and not a nail, etc. Well, now I know! And apparently, we have a compressor. Yeah.
I'm still proud of myself. I still think it was a good lesson to learn. Now I know what to do and yesterday I didn't. Now I wouldn't dread it as much if I were on the side of the road somewhere with a flat. Now I feel slightly more empowered than when I woke up this morning. Now I know to check the frigging air cap every now and then. And that we have a compressor (!*&$#(*&!*(&@(*&@!#!@@).