I drive with a lead foot regardless of the weather. This hasn’t brought any bad omens upon me in the five or so years that I’ve been driving. Then last Monday I ate it hard as I tried to pass some cars in the left lane of the 5 South.
The storm system going through Southern California last week had drivers going at 50mph on the freeways. A good, safe speed, yet intolerable to me. At the 10/60/5 junction, an extra left lane on the 5 South opens up and I took the opportunity to make my move. Accelerating, I spot a pothole ahead, and go over it with relative ease. But right after, I spot another pothole, and this time my car goes into it with a loud “boom” sound followed by an, “Oh shit,” from me.
“That must have given me a flat,” I think to myself. I let go of the steering wheel, and sure enough my car pulls hard to the left. I flick my blinker on and make my way over to the next exit and pull into the first gas station.
First thing I do: Call mommy. I’m lucky it’s President’s Day and I’m the only member of my family working. Next a call to Triple A (Change a tire in the rain? Yeah, right. We’re paying for Triple A for a reason), where I discover that I’m no longer under the plan, but if my parents call for me it would be perfectly fine. Which leads me to a quick aside to wonder why we even need the whole family under Triple A when it seems just having one person with the service will do fine.
Guy comes, tire changes, and head back home to swap for another car since I can’t go over 50mph on the spare, which is painted a bright yellow color that just screams, “Look at me! I’m a spare tire!”
After this ordeal, I find out that my rim got bent, and is most likely why I got the flat. Order is placed for new rim: $297. Then when I finally get the time to get it put on, I discover the tire has a gash that is unfixable. Order placed for tire: $220.
There goes Chinese New Year. I’m now paranoid of potholes on the road. I feel myself get tense as I see one approach and do my best to swerve around them. Stupid potholes.
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Sometimes the Triple A people require the person whose name is on the card to be present in order to provide service. I’ve had to call my dad to show up when my truck stopped in order to get them to tow it a few miles.