Ooh, that was flat

Went down to LA last weekend for fun with MK. Had fun. Played Moods and Imaginiff, lost horribly, but still had fun. I must be growing up. Used to be, I don't win, I don't have fun. I think I like this way better.

On the way back, not quite as much fun. 30 miles out of Bakersfield, I notice the needle's almost on E. I figure that shouldn't be a problem, since Dad always lets it drift way below E before bothering to fill up. Then it starts drifting below E. I start thinking maybe I should stop at a gas station, but then something else happened. Ka-thump! Ka-thump! Ka-thump! I look in the rear view mirror, thinking that pulling over might be a good idea at this point, and notice the cars behind me jiggling up and down. Turning around in my seat to look, I notice they aren't jiggling anymore. Think maybe I need to get my mirrors fixed.

Pull over, get out of the car. Walk around the car looking knowledgeable, kicking a few tires. Then notice the rear right tire is smoking. Contemplate smoke for awhile, thinking about my lack of experience in smoking right rear tires. Decide to look in my trunk to see if I have any smoking-tire-fixers.

Find tiny wheel that says, "Temporary spare. Recommended maximum speed: 50 mph." I don't like it too much, but I realize my choices are limited at this point. I nimbly lift the tire out of the trunk, pop off the smoking tire, replace it with my tiny grandpa tire, pop the other tire in the trunk, and zoom off into the sunset (at 50 mph).

OK, I confess. It was cloudy. And it wasn't quite as simple as I make it sound. Good advice: jack up car BEFORE entirely unscrewing lugnuts. (Yeah, I didn't do that, but that would've been hilarious, don't you think? "Alright, now I'll just take this tire off--" BANG!! "Look Ma, no toes!")

But I did successfully change a tire all by myself. Felt like a real man. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some world-conquering to do.