And so went the last few hours of my life.
Was running a couple of errands in the new car when I slightly misjudged the kurb while parking and made some relatively solid contact. I though nothing of it, and then proceeded to leave the parking spot. After about 30 seconds, there was a wired clunking noise, so I pulled over and got out of the car, at which stage a woman walking past was good enough to point out that my tyre was flat. She had a truely keen eye (for the bleeding obvious). So I got the spare out, jacked the car, unscrewed the flat, pulled at it and nothing happen. I pulled again, re-examined the situation, pulled again and got no where. By this time the old man from the house I was parked in front of had wondered out to say hello. He left and I spent another 30 minutes trying to work out what was wrong with the wheel. Finally I went back to ask the old man if I could check his phone book for a nearby tyre place. He was nice enough to let me in and have a look, I'm not sure that every old frail man would invite a big stranger into their house. For the record, Stan was 90 years old and happily retired (I was glad to hear they were not forcing him to work at his age). Ultimately, I found there was a tyre place about 1km away, so I decided to rescrew the flat and drive up there. Only went about 100 metres before I thought better of it, pulled over and called a tow truck company. They guy couldn't get anyone out to me for a while, but suggested I should just keep driving on, slowly. That sounded like an official sanction from someone more knowledgeable about cars than me, so I slowly drove the rest of the way. So the car is up there now, consuming my money and I go and get it in a little while. By far, the worst day I have had since I got here. Thank god Kat arrives tomorrow.
Word to the shit tyre.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment