How to get your tire fixed

About a week and a half ago, I thought my rear driver's side tire looked low. I asked MV to check it. Two days later, I thought it still looked low and sweetly asked if he had time to check my tires. Turns out he had aired it up right after I asked, but he checked again and aired again. Diagnosis - must be a slow leak and I needed to go up to the corner tire store. Yes, we actually have a tire store that is pretty much up on the corner.

Then I drove for about a week with it looking just fine, so obviously it had fixed itself. Conveniently, since MV was out of town so there was no possible way to convince him to do it for me.

Two nights ago, he came back into town. Last night, he mentioned that my tire looked low and had I gone to the tire shop. He was not of the opinion that it fixed all by itself.

So...today I slipped out of work early and visited the tire shop. You should absolutely go to Discount Tire on 12 Mile. This is a very nice tire place. With good magazines (which I did not read - see below). And they have staffed up perfectly - cute guys who are just scruffy enough to not be intimidating, but not scruffy enough that you don't want them to kind of flirt with you a little even though you could (possibly) be their mom. Though I did feel a little embarrassed asking the cute guy where the restroom was. (Seriously, everybody pees. Really, they do. Why do I feel silly asking?) They checked my tire while I diligently read facebook my accounting text. They said it was just a little corrosion making the tire not seat right and fixed it for free. Did you hear that - FOR FREE!

The cutie guy in charge let me know that two tires were starting to crack and the others were very low on tread, but we agree that was a conversation best left for another day. 

I happily skipped to my car, then skipped back into the tire shop and said I just didn't think it was quite full enough yet. The cutie guy in charge checked it and said it could take 5 lbs more. As he pulled it over to the hose, it started to sprinkle. He used the wipers. BBBRRRRAAAPPPP!

He came back and let me know I really could use new wipers. I explained that the one on my side was new, due to the unfortunate icy window, tangled-up wipers incident. I even used hand motions, but I'm not sure he completely got it. He turned on the wipers again. BBBRRRRAAAPPPP!

"You see," he said, "they are supposed to take the water off the window, not just turn it into lines."

"But it does that on my side just fine," I replied.

BBBRRRRAAAPPPP!

"Wipers are only $8.99 and we install them for free..."

I let him change the passenger side. And magically that horrible noise is completely gone.

We went back into the tire store. I paid. I hopped into my fully-aired up, no more BBBRRRRAAAPPPP! car and turned onto 12 Mile. I reached into my purse for my sunglasses. No sunglasses. I thought about it for a minute. I mentally traced my steps (all while sitting about a few feet from the tire store because, at the intersection of 12 and Orchard, rush hour is a bitch). I suddenly knew where they had to be. I pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant two down (because there was no way I was getting back to where I had come from in that traffic) and I walked back to the tire store. The cutie guy in charge saw me walk up and looked questioningly. Because (I really am hoping) it is not every day that someone drives away with a fixed tire and returns 5 minutes later on foot.

"Oh, I just need to pop into your restroom and pick up my sunglasses"

Yeah, I am just that cool.

Shout Out to the Tofurky Women in Trader Joe's

Awesomeness is sometimes quite obvious. There are people who do something and the world is changed for the better because of their actions. As a result, they may become famous, get on TV or receive a big award and everyone talks about it. Sometimes even after their passing, on into time for new generations to ponder and emulate. What we choose to honor as these acts of greatness defines us as a society.

Then there is a much smaller version of awesomeness. Everyday in nature and easy to overlook. No one is going to talk about these acts on into time or usually even at all. It is the greatness of the small acts we do with each and every choice we make. This is what defines us as a community and as individuals.

From time to time, I like to celebrate small acts of awesomeness that have stuck with me. Shall we share one together?

I overheard the following conversation in Trader Joe's this weekend as I was pondering the cheese selection. It was between two regular, average, nothing-jumping-out-at-me-to-remember middle aged women standing in front of the Tofurky display.

Woman 1: So that's it?
Woman 2: Yep, it is. It even comes with it's own gravy.
W 1: And that is what she eats?
W 2: That's what she said.
W 1: Well, that's what you need then.

And the box went into the cart.

When you are saying this conversation in your head, make sure to say it like I heard it. With a bit of doubt maybe, but pretty much just checking the situation out. I am pretty sure neither of them had ever heard of Tofurky before.

Ok, you are thinking, this little story is getting a bit boring. But that's kind of the point. Nothing big was happening, just two women shopping. But the simple action of buying something that they had never heard of, and probably found a bit weird, for one of them to prepare for someone she cared about struck me as being one of the most important things I might hear all day. I was hearing pure tolerance and love for someone who was different from them.

Go back to the conversation and say it in your head with a negative attitude in your voice. That is what she eats? like you think she is weird and bothersome and just trying to cause trouble. All too often, it goes like that.

So, big shout out to that Tofurky buying woman and her supportive friend. I think it is super awesome that you cared enough about this person coming to your Thanksgiving feast to take into consideration her preferences.

I totally wanted to tap you on the shoulder and tell you. But that might have been just a little bit too weird.