“I think I might have
a flat tyre,” announced my other half.
Well you either have or you haven’t…it’s a bit like being
pregnant really, there’s no in-between.
“Ok then, I have a
flat tyre”
Did anything happen that contributed to this flat tyre?
“Well, I might have
driven over a concrete island thing in the car park”.
Err,…don’t mean to sound repetitive here…. but either you
did drive over something or you didn’t?
“Ok then, I drove over
a concrete kerb thingy in the car park”
Would that be the concrete delineator that you are not
supposed to drive over then?
“Yes, that’ll be it”
How did you manage to drive over something that is supposed
to separate the lanes?
“Well, it kind of just
jumped out at me and before I knew it the back wheel of the car had clattered
it”
Was this like a major bang, or just a scuff?
“Oh, it was just a
scuff really”
(Inspection of tyre in driveway now points to a gaping hole
in the sidewall of the tyre.)
This “scuff”… it must have been a hell of a scuff to
puncture the side of the tyre.
“Well, now you mention
it… the car did bounce off the edge quite firmly”
Did you think about stopping to inspect for any damage or
anything?
“Yeah, I just took a
look once I got home”
So, that’s fifteen miles on a flat as a pancake tyre and you
never noticed anything was wrong?
“Stop picking on me…you
always blame me for everything, it’s not my fault”
No, never is…just like the time you reversed into that
parked car.
“You always bring that
up; it wasn’t my fault someone parked behind me”
(Thinks to myself, God give me strength)..Ok, who was
driving the car?
“That doesn’t matter,
if it had been you it would have been a different story”
Yes dear, that’s correct. I wouldn’t have driven over the
bloody concrete divider in the car park. If I had made a (very rare) error of
judgment, I would have stopped had a look at the tyre and possibly taken it to
the tyre service centre which is about 200 yards from the mall car park…….And,
by the way before you move off you are supposed to check your mirrors to see if
anyone has parked behind you.
“That was years ago”
Ok, fair point. What about the alloy wheel you buckled last year
that cost me £175 to replace?
“That wasn’t my fault
either, there was a pothole”
You don’t have to drive through them at high
speed though.
“I was not going fast”
That’s right dear, the wheel just buckled itself. You do know
in over twenty years of driving I have never ruined a wheel.
“Oh here we go; Mr
Perfect doesn’t ever make mistakes”
That’s not the point.
“Just change my tyre
please”
Thirty minutes later, oil stained jeans, grease covered
hands, scuffed knuckles, red faced and slightly embarrassed, as I couldn’t get
the wheel off…. I am driving fifteen miles on a flat tyre back to the mall tyre
service centre. “That’ll be £114.99 please sir and you might want to get that
alloy checked out, looks like you may have damaged the edge driving it on the
flat tyre – did you not think to put the spare on?”
Arrrrrrggggghhhhhh.
