Car Trouble
consider myself a feminist, and I can’t change a tire on my own. This weekend, I tried.
My tire had gone flat, I’d called Triple A, and the tow truck driver had put on a donut. But later, having located a spare, I was determined to replace the donut myself. I couldn’t drive all week on a donut. Once more, my car was no longer broken down, so I didn’t feel justified in calling Triple A. How hard could changing a tire be?
I blame
the jack. It had rusted shut and would not open. My husband was away, and despite my determination, I couldn’t get past it. I drove down to the gas station, but the attendant couldn’t open the jack either. I was at a loss, that is until a beat-up gray van pulled into the station and six 20-somethings rolled out, whose ragged attire and nonchalant air screamed struggling band. They were on their way to Saratoga to perform, and the lead percussionist, a friendly redhead named Buddy, managed to pry the jack open. I got the car raised and the tire off, but then the jack fell with a clink and the ground shook. I was parked in reverse, emergency brake engaged, but still the car rolled, the front axle grinding the tar as it did. Fortunately, Paul, the gas attendant, stepped in, his own jack in hand, and changed the tire. But the damage had been done. As I pulled away, the car screeched. The car — the brake disc now chipped — had to be repaired.
Today, we’re struggling. Without one car, we’re trying to cope with work commutes, school runs and team sports. My life runs fine as long as no one throws in a monkey wrench. I’m a capable, relatively tech-savvy woman. But give me a flat, and my life becomes derailed.
Which has got me to thinking: I put a lot of energy toward professional development, work/life issues and nurturing and educating my children so that one day they can successfully transition into the adult world. And yet, so much can hinge on changing a flat, a skill that after 39 years I still lack.
Women aren’t the only transgressors here; one of my colleagues is one of the most tech-savvy people I know, and he confessed this morning that he too can’t change a tire. But one thing is for certain: Once I’ve learned and my children are old enough, all of them — my daughter included — are going to learn how to properly work a jack.
Read these related commuting stories:
· Crazy Commute Stories: Monster Members Share Unusual Moments from the Daily Ride
Originally
from The Monster Blog
by Elizabeth
on May 8, 2007, 12:31AM
Posted by Jeff Bosco with
no comments.
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