Not Cool Times Ten

It is the first really rainy day in autumn, the first day where the raindrops don’t feel cold refreshing, they just feel cold, and, wow, flat tire on the way home today.  I pulled into a gas station parking lot next to the air machine, and it was completely beyond the hope of 75cents worth of air. I was driving the live-in’s car, a late 80’s model, and I’m pretty sure the spare has long ago turned to dust.

This particular car was stolen last year right around Christmas.  The cops actually found it and returned it about two months later and the thieves had cleaned it out and tuned it up.  The only things left in the trunk were a pair of tennis shoes, a framed picture of Martha Stewart (mine, obviously), and an MC Hammer cassette… and Fix A Flat.  Thank you god.  While it really sucks that I had to repair a tire in the cold rain, I’m really glad that I didn’t have to wait on a tow truck… and ride in the cab with some burly guy with one of those Nascar moustaches.

On a bright note, the live-in met me at the food court in the mall and we had stir fry surrounded by the teenage fashion statements offered by any given Friday night in suburbia and he told me about my favorite news story of the year:

“Sir, did you just call 911 to complain about traffic?”

“Fuck you.”

It’s such classic comic timing that I’d almost vote Republican.