June 29, 2006

Andrew Versus The Car

The day after the Oregon coast, I explored Redwood National Park-- and I'll post about that in due course, but for now I'm going to talk about what happened today, instead. Namely:

I drove all the way down to San Francisco Bay, navigated my way through a tangled web of confusing interstate signage, cruised suavely into Berkeley (where I'm staying tonight), and then, just as I was getting off the freeway (they actually call it 'the freeway' in California, it's very quaint), I thought to myself: "Hmm, that's a strange noise."

At first I tried to tell myself it was just an uneven road surface, but even after turning on to a different street altogether, the noise persisted-- so I pulled off the main road to take a look.

Well, it turns out, the strange noise was the sound of my hubcap scraping against the ground, over the lip of my comically flat tire.

Now, at this point, I might add, I was already running late for dinner with my hosts, so when the helpful lady at the Alamo roadside assistance hotline told me it would take an hour to send anyone out, I did what any red-blooded male would do: I rolled up my linen shirtsleeves, turned off my Imogen Heap CD, and pulled the spare out of the back. (And if you find it funny to picture me changing a tire, I kindly invite you to go cuddle yourself.)

I was back on the road again after half an hour, but the end result is that I have to take two hours out of my only day in San Francisco tomorrow to drive to the airport and swap out my car for one with all four tires intact (it's either that or make the 400 mile drive to LA at 50mph on Friday). Speaking of which, I should get to bed so I can get started early...

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