Monday, September 17


Four new tires!

How exactly can it be that I developed two flat tires before dinner last night? I drove the truck less than a mile down the road around 4:00 yesterday afternoon and it was fine. Certainly no more wobbley than usual. By 7:00, its puffiness factor had decreased by fully fifty percent. Did I run over a pile of glass or nails or steak knives during my brief travels and not notice it? Did a pack of dogs attack my truck while I was slicing pears for the croustade? Could the tires have been slashed? We found no evidence that any of these scenarios took place.

I've had tires slashed in Tucson before, but I thought it highly unlikely to happen more than once. I thought my karma was in better shape than that. I offer people rides home if they're stranded. I bake them things. I don't mess with their vehicles.

And anyway, I know where my karma's off. I know that someday I'm going to come back as a shallot and wind up diced into a delicious glazed pork dish. I could see how I deserve that.

But I don't think I deserve slashed tires again. I don't deserve two flat tires in one day regardless of how it actually happened. And I'm pretty sure I didn't deserve to be told this morning that the remaining two tires are bulging and rotation simply won't cut it this time.

When Raphael ventured out into the driveway last night, all we really wanted was a loaf of bread to have with the chili. Not a crisis.

Thank god I don't have to be at work until late on Tuesdays. My morning off is the perfect time to spend three hours getting all four tires replaced.

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