How to change a tire.
Before I turned sixteen and could drive, I always laughed when my mom would mention teaching me how to change a tire. The running joke was that if I wasn't with a guy who could do it, I would surely find a nice gentleman who would stop and help me out. The reality is, it doesn't always work that way but at sixteen, I believed it would all magically work out if the time that I got a flat tire ever occurred. That was my sixteen year old optimism and naivety of the world.
I was eighteen years old when I became the proud owner of a brand new Ford Ranger in royal blue for a graduation present from my grandparents. Bye bye 1994 turquoise clunker of a pick up!
My mom has always stood behind the philosophy that you don't need a man to do everything. Thus, began my lesson on changing a tire. I have watched my parents change tires, but that didn't mean I had the first inclination as to where to start and I wasn't a fan of getting covered in mud and grease in the process.
My mom handed me the manual from my truck sitting all shiny on the driveway and said, "Good luck. I'll come out when you're finished." I stared at her with my mouth gaping open thinking 'this is a joke, right?'.I didn't have a flat tire, but this was my mom's idea of 'being prepared'.
Two hours later, after a lot of grunting, groans, whiny complaints to no one but myself and the birds in the trees who were probably laughing behind there wings, I was done. I was covered in grease and dust but I had done it. I had changed my first tire.
Word to the wise, manuals are useless. Those pictures with brief captions - they really don't tell you anything other than the fact that you don't know what you're doing. Thanks, already knew that! An IKEA manual is more accurate and helpful and we all know how confusing those little men are.
I quickly forgot about my tire changing lesson until one random summer night last year. I was driving a friend home at 12:30am after falling asleep on the couch watching a movie. We were only a few blocks down the road from the house when I could tell something was off. I turned down the music and right away knew the tire was flat from the plunk, plunk, plunk sound that was coming from the back. We had a flat tire.
Instead of panicking, my first instinct was to laugh because now five years later, my mom's changing a tire lesson was coming in handy. I hiked up my maxi skirt, tied it in a knot and proceeded to start changing the tire. I will admit, I did first make a phone call to my boyfriend's dad to see if he was nearby to help but he was obviously asleep and not answering.
A word of advice ladies, always know how to change a tire. And I mean that literally.