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07/21/2022 12:00 AMI’d like to tell you about a day. It starts off with a flat tire. Never a good thing. Triple A comes and puts on the spare, but since it’s Sunday I can’t get the tire fixed because garages aren’t open on Sundays.
So, it’s not the best of Sundays. Monday is worse, though. A lot worse.
I’m able to get to my local garage first thing and it’s determined that the problem is a sensor in the tire. They have one in stock, quickly replace mine, and send me on my way. Easy peasy.
Sometimes I can be paranoid and because of that, I go to my car at lunch to take a quick peek, just to make sure everything is okay. What do I see? Flat tire.
I call the garage and the person on the phone says she’ll send the guy out who had done the repair. I hang up and am fuming that the job wasn’t done correctly. I then realize something very important. The flat is a different tire than the one that was fixed. Oops.
I call the garage back and explain. I don’t want anyone getting in trouble. The guy arrives and takes the current flat tire off and puts the spare on. He thinks it’s another sensor. It’s rare for two to go in such quick succession, but not entirely unheard of since the car is getting pretty old. He does the work quickly and is really pleasant about it, too. I agree to drive to the shop on my way home from work.
After work I go down to the car and thankfully don’t see another flat. But there is a light on inside. Not good.
I turn the key in the ignition. Nothing. I try again. Nothing.
How did the light get turned on? Did I knock the switch at some point that morning? Did the person at the garage knock it somehow when he was checking to see if the low-tire-pressure-warning light turned off? I don’t know. Honestly, I’m thinking it was neither of us. At this point I’m thinking poltergeist. How could I not?
I know my boss is still in the office. I run upstairs and ask him if he could give my car a jump start. Good thing I have jumper cables. He hooks everything up, starts his car and says, “Okay, try it now!”
I turn the key and. . . the key breaks in the ignition. Yes. Chew on the gristle of that for a moment.
I’m able to gingerly pull the broken piece out like a surgeon extracting an appendix. I have a spare key and make it to the garage in time to get another tire sensor installed. It’s raining. Isn’t it always raining when these things happen? I drive a while to recharge my battery and arrive home a worn-out wreck. My car is my lifeline.
So now my tires are fixed, but I no longer have a spare car key. The next day I call the sales office where I bought my car, and the rep is kind enough to tell me to go to a dealer that makes my brand of vehicle. Cutting out the middleman will lower the price of the new key, I’m told. Makes sense.
I call a dealer and almost fall out of my chair when I’m told the price of a new key. They say that since the key has a chip, only a dealer can replace it. Great.
Later I go to my local hardware store and ask about getting a new key. Not only would they be able to replace the key (chip and all), but since I have the old chip, I only need to pay a small fee for a case and battery. The price is far less than what the dealer charges. The person who makes my new key goes with me to my car to test it to make sure all is well. Like the person who repaired my tires, he’s kind, helpful, and does a good job.
Next time you go out to your local small restaurant, please raise a glass to all small businesses. They’re there for you when you have a manic Monday. Or a manic any day. Cheers!
Juliana Gribbins is a writer who believes that absurdity is the spice of life. Her book Date Expectations is winner of the 2017 Independent Press Awards, Humor Category and winner of the 2016 IPPY silver medal for humor. Write to her at jeepgribbs@hotmail.com. Read more of her columns at www.zip06.com/shorelineliving.