My wonderful day.

I had to borrow my boss' car today so I could go to the rez and get some stuff. My boss picks me up a little after noon. We go into town and do some errands, then bossperson goes to work (it's about 1:30 by this time) and I take the car (SUV actually, but whatever). Now, we both know the rear driver's side tire has a slow leak. It's not a big deal, just something that hasn't gotten fixed yet. The tire's looking a bit low when I get in to take off, so I pop over to the gas station, fill the tire up, get gas, and, figuring it can't hurt to be prepared, grab a can of fix-a-flat. Then off I go.

As I'm tooling down the highway, I can feel the tire losing pressure slowly; but I figure I can make it to where I need to go before it becomes a problem. I was almost right.

Just as I'm slowing to pull into the the smoke shop, I feel the tire go the rest of the way flat. Fortunately, this particular shop doubles as a truck stop. I figure I'll put in the fix-a-flat and fill the tire after I make my purchase. That'd at least get me back to town, right? Yeah sure. Not with my luck.

I put the fix-a-flat in and start filling the tire with air. As I'm doing this I can hear the air coming back out of the tire almost as fast as I'm putting it in. Crap. Time to crawl on the ground and see what's up. I get under the vehicle and find there's a gash on the back wall of the tire about an inch long. I suppose it's a good thing that I just happened to stop with the tire in the right position for the slice to be on the bottom, otherwise I probably wouldn't have heard the leak and would probably have been stuck on the highway changing a tire instead of in a nice flat (and safe) parking lot. There's no way fix-a-flat was gonna fix that one.

Okay! No problem. Changing a tire is easy enough, even if it wasn't on my to-do list for the day. There's just one little problem. There's no spare.

"Are you  kidding me?", I say aloud. "Who the  doesn't keep a spare when they know they have a bad tire? !"

I get on the phone and call the boss.

"You know you don't have a spare, right?"

"I don't? Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty  sure."

"Did you look in the trunk?"

"Ummm...you don't have a trunk. Your spare goes under the vehicle."

"Well, look in the trunk. I'm sure it's there."

"Which part of 'You don't have a trunk' didn't you understand?"

 "Oh! I remember. It's in my basement. Call [insert name of mutual acquaintance/coworker] and see if she'll bring it to you."

So I call, and, naturally, her kid has her car. She tells me she'll get there as soon as she can.

She finally gets there at about 4:30, stays long enough for me to grab the tire, and heads out. A few minutes later I'm also on my way.

As a side-note: Cheap, crappy little scissor jacks  aren't my idea of the ideal tool for lifting heavyass SUVs, but what do I know?