tire(d)

It is 3am and I have a pair of dirty jeans hung up to dry on the back of my bedroom door, I'm exhausted and I have solidified rubber cement on my finger tips.

Flashback to this morning:
I wake up in a hungover daze--my mouth is dry and the breath I'm breathing on my pillow is forming a green liquor smelling cloud around my face. I squint at the clock ...8am. As soon as my tired eyes focus, my alarm goes off -- each digital ring cutting into my fragile eardrum like a rusty knife.

After I hit snooze, my mind gives me three options:
1. wake up, shower, get coffee, and head to my 9am class nice and refreshed.
2. go back to sleep and don't wake up until the afternoon.
3. drift back to sleep, have a nightmare about the consequences of missing class, wake up at 8:40 and run out of the door.

Option 3 was chosen.

I'm sitting in the back of the classroom, probably smelling horrible. I'm sweating for no reason. I did not have time to look for my books, so I'm sharing with the girl next to me...I cannot bring my eyes to focus so the pages just look like white rectangles of light. I keep squinting..she edges the book closer. Soon I have just have book practically on my lap and I still can't read the problems we're going over in class.

11am -- class lets out. I'm still feeling horrid.

I call Jaime to see if she wants to get the only cure for my ailment: french toast and bacon.

We're in the diner, just got our hot plates put in front of us, I smile and my mouth starts to water in anticipation of the great meal to come....just in that moment, the valet walks up to our table.
I hear: "HAY Mr. Green car...your tire is flat, it wasn't my fault, just letting you know its flat"

oh..crap.

After the meal I go out to check on the situation...the rim of the tire is resting on the pavement of the parking lot, I'm screwed. The man-part of my brain kicks into action, I pop the trunk, find the lugwrench, the spare, the jack and start going to work on replacing the tire. I'm so wrapped up I forget that I left Jaime with no money, and pretty much walked out on my check.

The lugs are off, but the tire, which has a nail lodged into it, is stuck. The valet comes over and we take turns kicking the tire until it falls off. "Okay, almost done, that was easy" I think to myself.

The valet watches me try to put the spare tire on the car. It doesnt go on. He gives it a try...can't get it to fit. I look at the rim of the spare, and it has 6 holes ..and my car only has 4 prongs to hold a tire.

"the holes...eets the wrong holes" The valet says over my shoulder.

Shit. I go over my options with the valet. "I know theres an autoparts store around here, I could buy a patch kit, and fix it right up"
The valet looks at me and repeats "the holes...the holes were all wrong"
Somewhere in the conversation about the holes and how wrong they were, the valet suggests walking to the meineke across the street. I huff, but eventually agree..and grab the tire and cross the busy intersection to get to the car repair center.
I walk in and say, while catching my breath: "tire...flat...holes....fix it?"
The meineke man doesn't even look up and just says "YOU GOTTA GO TO STRAUSS, I DONT DO TIRES"
This makes no sense to me, I catch my breath...and frustration boils over "You're a car repair shop, if a car comes in with a flat tire and wants a tune up -- what do you do??"
"I SEND THEM TO STRAUSS" The man says without hesitation .

"Strauss" is the car parts store I was thinking of earlier..and its 4 blocks away. I grab the tire, and carry it down one of the busiest streets in queens. No one is giving me a second look. I guess people carrying tires or autoparts down the road is a common occurrence. Its also drizzling, the tire is turning my jeans black, and my stomach is growing weaker with all this physical activity.

I get to the store, set down the tire, and try to catch my breath. I find a repair kit (which is a jabber that you thread a sticky thing through to plug up the hole, and use rubber cement as lubricant). I'm eager to repair it but there is still the problem of the nail lodged in it. I ask the man at the counter if theres anything in the store to get the nail out "you know...like a hammer or something"
He hands me pliers. They cannot get the grip needed to pull the nail out. Me and the clerk take unsuccessful turns and he starts scratching his head. "How about a hammer?" I suggest, thinking that we could use the claw back part to remove it. "HAMMER??" the clerk gives me an intense look of confusion. Thinking that I wanted to either bang the nail deeper into the tire out of anger and permanently ruin it...or somehow magnetize the hammer to pull out the nail. After I explained the purpose I had in mind, the hammer was procured, and the nail instantly came out.

Now I'm outside of the autoparts store trying to follow the repair kit instructions. One man walks up to me
-"hay what are ya doin?"
-"fixing my tire"
-"oh ya pluggin it up??"
-"yeah"
-"this guys pluggin it up!" he laughs to himself as he walks away.

I fill the tire with air at a nearby gas station and continue to carry/roll it back to my car.

I get there, finally, and I'm greeted by my valet friend.

"eets feexed?" He asks

"well i had to go down there to the auto shop, buy a kit..." Summing what just happened

He looks at me blankly for a second, then his eyes light up... and he says:

"eets the holes..thee holes were all wrong"