09th Feb 2006
Dear Tire Goddess
Dear Tire Godess,
I am conflicted as to whether or not you have a personal concern with my tires.
Sometimes I think that you hear me talk to you and that you deeply worry about me and my tires. Other times, I think the universe is a chaotic place and the Tire Goddess has no time for me.
Please allow me to appease you in some way.
I have had three totally flat tires in six years of living here. Lest you forget, there was
1. the flat after yoga class that resulted in a AAA phone call and a truck driver who told me I better take care of my tires because I couldn’t get by on my looks forever. Bwahahahahahaha, was my response;
2. the flat after therapy, which was conveniently (and suspiciously) located next to a tire store;
3. the flat on Tuesday before I left for breakfast with a friend.
In each case, I was fine, but had to completely replace the tire because it was so entirely holey and flat.
And then there are the literally countless times when I’ve noticed the tire was leaking, refilled it, and then taken it to be patched. Countless times in the past six years. I have entire relationships with tire men. They know me by name. They love my credit card.
I’ve analyzed my driving patterns. Do I pull off onto the shoulder too often when tailgated? Do I drive off road too much entirely? Do I simply visit Home Depot too much? I’m not sure.
With all due respect, Tire Goddess, how can I make you happy? I do not want to spend my life repairing and replacing the tires on my car. I simply can’t go on this way. It’s expensive and one day I’m going to get a flat in the wrong place or even blow a tire on the freeway. That’s a nasty accident waiting to happen.
Placing my life in your warm rubber embrace,
Stephanie
