Nailed it

At 5:00 I was in the middle of resizing a photo for Henry's website, so I finished that and uploaded it. At 5:15 (all times approximate), I saw a note about adding anchor links to a page, so I did that quickly. At 5:25, I looked through the new information I'd added today and decided I could improve the design of a new page if I moved some information to a sidebar. At 6:05 I drafted an email to Henry to alert him to the changes and ask for his approval. If no changes are needed, I'll make the website live tomorrow. A 6:10 I wandered off to the restroom. By 6:30 I had answered an email, logged off the computer, gathered my stuff and left the building. My car was the last in the parking lot. And the left rear tire was flat.

I haven't had to change a tire since college when I noticed the telltale keflunk as I was leaving work at the radio station late one night. At least this time it was daylight.

After unearthing the lug wrench, jack and the compact spare--

And right here I'd like to state for the record there was a time when I owned and hauled around a proper lug wrench, jack and full-size spare. A combination of never using them, the discovery of Fix-A-Flat (shush) and a trend toward cell phones and vehicular laziness, stopped me from properly stocking my trunk.

The first trouble I had was figuring out how to un-origami the jack from the frame it sits in on top of the spare tire. The second piece of trouble was an inability to loosen two of the lug nuts. Both were toward the bottom and I couldn't get a good angle. One finally budged. The last one was pissing me off. I was nearly ready to give up and call my brother when I gave the thing one last kick and saw it move a bit. After that things went better, although I needed the owner's manual to figure out how to position the jack. I had the spare on and was working on tightening the lug nuts when a guy from one of the other buildings in the office park walked over and offered to help. Frankly, I was grateful because I'm not confident in any of my pit stop skills. He said it looked good and gave all the lug nuts an extra pull to further tighten them. I realize he may not know any more than I do about changing a tire, but fools love company. In times of trouble it's always nice to know you don't suck alone.

He lifted the flat tire into the trunk, wished me a better night, and we parted, connected only by the same tire dust smeared onto our pants.

So I arrived home without any tires flying off, and I called Mica. My plan was to drive to work tomorrow and call the service station near her house when it opens at 8 a.m. to make an appointment to have the tire fixed (it's a nail--I saw it when I pulled the tire off). She said she could meet me there, take me to work and then reverse all that at 5:00.

Then Blaine called to talk about Friday. I'm going with him to a retirement reception that starts at the convenient time of 5:00. More about all that when it becomes relevant.

"Do you know of any place that fixes tires and opens before 8:00?" I asked, then filled him in on the exciting saga.

"I do," he said. He gave me the name of a tire business and the person I should talk to. "I have his number. Let me try to get him. I'll call you back." When he did, he had an appointment time for me. If I have my car there by 7:30, they'll deliver it to my office by noon.

"Seriously?" I was in awe.

"Any chance you can be there a bit earlier, say 7:15? I'll meet you and as soon as things are squared away I'll take you to work."

I was about to say Mica would do that, and she would, or that I'd use the business' shuttle service, but I quickly factored in that a 7:15 on-his-way-to-work Blaine meant a freshly showered, freshly cologned Blaine in a suit.

"That would be great."