Somebody better get insurance to take good care of me.
Cause if I’m stuck with my own bad luck,
Well that’s the saddest sight you’ll see.
Sloan might know me better than anyone else does. Here is yesterday’s saga of a story:
Short of the end of the day, lunch is my favourite part of the day. I am the only person at the office who goes home for lunch, and so when I got to my car to drive home yesterday at lunch, I noticed that one of my tires was low.
Being the amazing girl I am, complete with my own tire gauge, I headed to fill up my tire to the perfect 32 PSI. A few kilometers down the road my car started to shake uncontrollably, I pulled over in the nearest parking lot and notice my once round tire was flat. But again, a woman of many talents like myself, I pulled out my jack and spare tire, and began the process of changing my tire, looking more than professional, and my hair perfectly coiffed.
However, the process stopped soon after I got the car jacked up, as I could not loosen the bolts that held my tire. I tried and tried, but to no avail. Many people passed me during my attempts, people who looked strong enough, or had better tools to help me, but despite being in a busy parking lot with quite a few people, no one stopped. Two old ladies, one with a walker, asked me if they could help, but I just thanked them for their kindness and sent them on their way.
That is when I decided to call AMA for help. My five-minute phone call resulted in an hour wait for help to arrive. I called the office to tell them of my predicament and that I would be late coming back from lunch and they were all horrified. How I could be so brave in the face of such danger was beyond all of them.
When the AMA guy finally arrived, it was a two minute job to put the spare on my car. In my defense, the driver did admit that even he had trouble getting the bolts off the tire. I thanked the driver, and headed back to the office, a little more greased stained than I had left.
The ladies were concerned and rushed to the windows to see the small replacement adorning my car, talking up my bravery the rest of the day.
The story doesn’t necessarily end there. Regular readers will realize that this isn’t the first tire trouble that I have, but rather the 3rd in the past year, or so. Our local Wal-Mart does an excellent job of repairing or replacing the tire at a relatively low cost. The service has always been courteous and efficient.
So, I headed off to Wal-Mart to have my tire repaired. But somehow my efficient and knowledgeable service crew had been replaced with a bevy of confused personnel. After quite the production to even have my car looked at, it took another two and half hours to have tire replaced. (And let me tell you, even the Super Wal-Mart gets boring after an hour.)
Finally, my car was finished, but not before more billing bewilderment and me remembering why I hated Wal-Mart.
Everything seems okay now. My new intensely black tire seemed just fine when I drove it to work this morning. I am hoping that my bad luck has stopped, for now at least.
Here’s hoping Jenny brought back a four-leaf clover for me.
Looking forward to a long weekend
Thanking my parents for their assistance.
Finally getting paid.
Good Luck to us all. God bless us, everyone.
As Always,
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