Fuck Me February continues.
My driver’s side tire blew out–literally–while driving to get some lunch this morning. I hobbled it into a closed Speedway and pulled the donut and jack out of the trunk.
The lug wrench and the lug nuts are different sizes. I can’t change it myself.
I called AAA (thank you for the subscription, Mom!).
My cell phone battery died before a real human could pick up.
I put 50 cents into the pay phone.
It ate the quarters and wouldn’t place the call.
The operator put my call through anyway and I got a real person.
Because of the weather, there’s a 480 minute–eight hour–window. So, some time between 430 am and 1230 pm.
I have enough battery life to call work and have someone come get me. I end up limping the car back to the office so I can actually be there when AAA does show up (whenever that will be), and call them when I get in to let them know the car’s been moved. They tell me someone’s on the way already (hallelujah!) and within 45 minutes, there’s a roadside rep there who jacks the car up and yanks the old tire off. There is a hole the size of a half-dollar blown out of the side.
Then we discover the spare doesn’t fit.
It’s going to be up to an eight hour wait for a tow.
The only place open today (Sunday) is NTB, and not until 9am. Fortunately, it’ll only hurt me for about $50 for a new tire, mounting and balancing. Hopefully. Not that I actually can afford it, but it’s better than $80 or $100.
EDIT: Of course, they didn’t have the tire they showed online. So it cost me seventy dollars that I can’t spare, instead of fifty that I can’t spare.