So my kid has this ridiculously awesome car. It’s a Chrysler 300, it has those ridiculously stupid, or awesome, I can’t decide which, wheels that all them kids are crazy for these days. You know, where it is the illusion of being all rim with just the thinnest sheen of rubber that passes for a ‘tire.’
Seriously, the car is way too nice. It was purchased at a police auction, I think, and then was one of his friend’s, until he decided to get a truck. At such a time it ended up with my son.
Yay for him, he has this stupid/awesome chic magnet of a car. Somehow, over his Christmas break, he was off snowboarding, and I was stuck at the car shop getting his oil changed. He had the problem where one of his tires kept losing air, and he asked me to ask them to patch it.
‘Sure thing,’ they said, ‘no problem.’ I was personally surprised to learn that those tires even held air, again, they’re only about as thick as a sheet of paper. The wheels are all rim.
‘Looks like a nail was in the tire, not gonna be a problem,’ they said.
I sit in the lobby of the shop, and I wait. Thankfully, I’d taken a book with me, not this book, that would have made sense for me to tell this story then, but the book I read before I read this book. So they are at least connected, um, sort of.
Whatever, shut up.
After, and I’m not kidding here, about 3 hours, they finally come and get me, they drag me out into the shop floor, and they say something to me that I’d previously only heard on the Simpsons.
‘Sir, I’m afraid we legally can’t let you drive out of here on this tire.’
I shit you not. Those were the words that the man said to me. Serious as can be.
And thus went a blow-up that was worthy of an episode of punk’d. I called the man things I’ve never heard before. People ask writers where their stories come from, bystanders were coming to me afterwards and asking where my curses come from. I’d called him a liar, a thief, I accused him of being a spawn of incest, of taking his pleasure with the likes of farm animals and household appliances. I went on and on, and I and after about 30 minutes of that, I bought a new tire.
I’m not especially proud of what I did. But I had a home contractor that ruined my life for the better part of a year, and at the end of him ripping me off, stealing my money and other such things, he told me to expect his lawsuit. I had a short leash for this sort of thing.
But like I said before, I ended up buying a new tire. The rims, of course, don’t take normal tires, they take these things that are as thick as the sole of a sneaker, and as wide as a river. They cost accordingly to replace.
It was the day after Christmas, I decided it would be a surprise bonus Christmas gift for my party animal kid, who makes me do his crap work while he plays with his friends.
I leave, none too happy, but with a new tire.
One week later, I am reading this book, and my kid leaves for school, then comes back a few minutes later to tell me that his tire is flat. The same tire.
The same tire.
THE. SAME. TIRE.
He airs it back up, and this time I tell him to take his stupid car and his stupid wheels and stupid tires back to the shop and let those stupid people fix his stupid shitty car.
He calls me a few hours later and tells me I have to pick him up. Apparently, they gave him the ‘ol, I-can’t-legally-let-you-drive-out-of-here-on-this-tire speech.
What is it with these people? They have a game where they just see how awful they can be?
With the warranty for the tire, since it’s only a week old, they’ll knock $50 off a replacement, they say.
I decide to call, different guy this time, good for me, I can just repeat my curses from before without worrying about the same guy having to hear it twice.
After all is said, my son has another new tire, this one they at least relented and replaced it without charge. Me, I feel like I just carried the one ring all the way to Mount Doom only to find out later it was part of a set, that I didn’t save anyone.
They tell me to expect this tire to be flat within another week or so, with the tire ruined. They tell me that those rims won’t take a new tire. That rim is like the mighty Lion that walks into a new pride and kills all the cubs. It simply won’t brooke any challenger.
And through all that, I was reading this book. It was okay, but given the rep of the author I was expecting something that rose to the occasion of my high level of drama in my own life. But alas, it couldn’t. It had moments. But in all, I was underwhelmed by it.
The worst kind of book for me, really, because it wasn’t bad enough to warrant any sort of mockery, it was a genuinely fine story. I just want something great.