I can’t even remember the last time I had a flat tire, but apparently, this was my week to win the unlucky lottery.
I had just pulled out of the school parking lot, heading over to see Teri, when my dashboard lit up with what I like to call the donut with a bite taken out of it idiot light. You know the one. Yep—right front tire. 0 psi. Fabulous.
Now, the school isn’t exactly in the best part of town, so I figured I’d better try to get a little closer to home just in case I had to ditch the car and hoof it. I made it as far as the corner of Main and Delevan before the dreaded whump-whump-whump sound kicked in and sent me into mild panic mode.
I called 1-800-ChevUSA, holding on to a shred of hope, only to be reminded that, nope—no more free roadside service for me. My car only has 22,000 miles on it, but it’s five years old, which apparently makes it a senior citizen in car years. Great.
I have no idea how much this little detour is going to cost me, but at least the service guy gave me a much-needed laugh. He pulled the donut out of my trunk, took one look, and said, “Wow! This sure is a tiny tire!”
Sir. I drive a 2020 Chevy Spark. Everything is tiny.
