handle

Last night the right front tire of my car blew out while I was on the off ramp. A little earlier and I would have suffered the experience of a tire blowing out on the freeway. I rode pretty much on the rim just around the corner and parked in the neerest parking lot. The hole was about the size of a baseball. Layers of irritation swelled as I realized: 1. I just bought these tires 2 months ago, 2. it's cold, I'm tired and now I have to change my fucking tire, 3. Well there really isn't a three, but fuckin A, my goddamned tire blew out! On the up side the tires are still under waranty and the parking lot I pulled in to was a grocery store that by chance 3 of my friends were at. They came outside and saw my predicament and aided me in the changing of my tire. Of course changing the tire alone was well within my inherent ability as a man, but the company and minor aid was still appreciated. The compact jack that came with the car broke half way through, perhaps nearly taking off my hands, but the jack too was easily repairable and the tire was eventually changed. After getting gas, I drove home, planning to check in the morning for the closest location that would reckognize my tire waranty. In the morning further investigation determined that the closest place was infact 50 miles north in godforsaken Rohnert Park. So I drove there, they changed the tire free of charge and I then I drove back to SF and proceeded to go job hunting. I guess we'll see how that went in the future.

I made a mantle piece/new best friend out of an old cantelope, bottle caps, soot and old dry spagehtti. Unlike most friends, he becomes more alive by the day.

----Signing Off----