Let's go bowling!

That's what Dad and I did last night. Unfortunately, the illusive 300 game has yet to appear. Guess there's always next time! Per usual, after leaving the bowling alley, we headed to Taco Bell for our #8 and #3 crunchy.

Me: Dad, ever think about trying something different on the menu?
Dad: Why the hell would I want to do that?

After we left Taco Bell, I realized when backing up I had a flat tire. Not just any old flat tire, the tire was almost completely off the rim! Not exactly sure when it happened, but I can't imagine that I drove on the tire and didn't realize it was flat. Also, if a tire is low on pressure, the truck has a little light that will come on that looks like a flat tire with a big exclamation point on it. I did not see that light.

Now what?! I could use that handy-dandy flat tire fixer kit that Aunt-Kathy and Uncle-Ken gave us, but again, the tire is off the rim so that won't work. I know how to change a flat tire but have never done one on this truck...I think I know where the jack is. I should probably mention that this Taco Bell is at the beach and it's freakin dark and I don't have a flashlight...although there is a place in the truck where you can put one. Whatever.

Dad: I can change the tire for you.
Me: I know you can, but I can't even see the to get the spare tire off.

I felt bad for Dad cause he wants to help, but he can't.

So, I get the jack out and put it all together. Dad and I argue about the placement of the jack. Then I try to get the stupid lug nuts off the tire. That's not going to happen. Now what?! Let's call Bro-n-Law-Darryll...he can make it all better!!

Meanwhile, this nice young man asks if we need help. I tell him we've called my brother-in-law but he still wants to help and appears to know what he's doing. He places the jack in the correct spot and starts going to work...then mentions that he's really high and drunk. I say "DUDE, RIGHT ON!"

Then Bro-n-Law-Darryll and Seester come to the rescue only my jack is a flimsy piece of doo-doo. Darryll happens to have a headache and stoned-drunk-guy is smoking a cig which is Darryll least favorite thing to smell. I thank Stoned-Drunk-Guy and Darryll goes to work, only the force it takes to get the tire off is about to topple the jack over. I'm feeling really bad. Now what?!

Also, right about this time, a homeless man has walked by and then we get to watch him urinate in the parking lot. SWEET!

Let's call a towing service. Here's the thing, I'm not even sure Poppy and I have have roadside service with our insurance company. (Note to self: find out if we have towing service). I do know that we have roadside service with our scooters.

So Mr. Towing-Service-Guy shows up, takes my stupid little jack off and gets his 3 ton jack and changes the tire lickity-split!

Now it's close to 10:00, we're all freezing and just want to be home.


We all say our good byes and I pay Mr. Towing-Service-Guy $140 and I'm on my merry way.

I get home and Poppy asks me what's wrong. I tell her what happened. She's mad cause I didn't call her. I say "What would you have done?" She said "I would called our roadside assistance." "Oh."

I tell Seester this morning that I feel bad for calling them and that I wouldn't have had I not been in Pacifica (they live so close) and by the way, we have roadside service. She said "We're family, that's what we do."

So there you go!