When I woke with an entire Saturday free of major plans or commitments, with a fiancé out of town, I wanted to run some errands, pick up my CSA at the farmer’s market, chill at the pool with a friend and end the day doing a bit of baking. Delightful, no?
All went well until I returned home from the pool. Still damp and already showing lobster red on my shoulders, I started to unload the day’s pickups when I heard a loud sustained HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.
Cue pit in the stomach.
Hearing the air draining out of my tire, I took another load of empty moving boxes into the house while I resigned myself to changing a flat and canceling my plans for tomorrow. It is my Mom’s birthday and I was planning to meet my parents at a halfway point between our homes – a two hour drive.
Quickly thinking to call Dad, he instructed me to “get thee to the nearest tire store before it goes flat! It will be easier all around.” Dad to the rescue, even when four hours away.
Off I raced, er, drove like a grandma, to my trusty mechanic’s. Confident I made it in under the wire for their daily close time of 7pm, I pulled in the drive at 6:01pm. A solid minute AFTER they closed.
Now near tears, it seems the Walmart several miles away was the only option on a Saturday evening for tire places open.
So here I am, world, in all my glory. Unbathed and smelling of chlorine and BO, hair a frizzy mess, still in a damp swimsuit, I have to say I’m looking worthy of a spot on one of the People of Walmart sites. Here’s hoping someone got my best side for my debut. Make sure you capture the leg that’s half white and half sunburnt in the photo.