Tire, Tire Woes Y’all

Well yesterday was pretty eventful. The day started out with me releasing some long brewing fumes about my slow and agonizing loss of all my clothes and ended with me falling asleep at 9:00 p.m. That’s pretty damn early if you ask me, 9 O’clock? I didn’t even get to watch the stupid reporters tell us about that damn whale still being stuck up shit creek on the local newscast. (I think the whale actually moved to an even dirtier body of water, it’s now a brown beluga whale).

So, what happened in between my great start and my arguably greater conclusion to the second day in May?

9:00 a.m. - First off, my new 30-dollar iPod charger I bought (because my old one broke) didn’t work – apparently the charger for my ‘old skool’ iPod is now ‘OBSOLETE’ – and Apple has their shit so far up their ass that they decide not to include the cord when they sell you their (very well packaged) chargers. I sat through an 8-hour day at work listening to every single background conversation that I didn’t need to hear. The morning went on forever, I made it through though thanks to some swanky Photoshop car rendering tutorials.

11:00 a.m. - our ‘weekly staff meeting’ rolls around. I make sure to grab a brand new notepad before every meeting so that I can shoot the paper-shits with the secretary. You see; we have this new high-tech audio conferencing system, with microphones planted EVERYWHERE in the room, and even the slightest fart is broadcast for your embarrassment/ enjoyment. No talking, snickering, chewing, burping or cracking your knuckles is permitted. None of that shit.

Roxanne and I have some interesting discourse, such as (but not limited to) what is the best way to win the lottery? Why I’ll never get rich because I tip too much; When we can go to Atlantic City and gamble away our life-savings and my favorite of all is the part where I get to describe the visuals of certain TV shows, because she doesn’t own a TV and only LISTENS to television shows on the radio (?!?!?!!). Christ Almighty (and I don’t even believe in the guy).

Side Note: Our notes were interrupted by the relieving news that co-worker G.W. barely escaped what was “an almost certain and instant decapitation” (I am DEAD serious).

12:30 p.m. - Meeting is OVER, salvation has arrived and it’s time for lunch! Normally I go to Eleanor’s (since we don’t know her last name, we sometimes say Roosevelt, Rigby and… hmmm … that’s it – only 2 Eleanors I know), a lady who comes to the facility with some home-cooked goodness (But she’s only there Tuesday and Thursday, so Mondays is 7-11 day). I used to pack lunch but stopped that because I find that going out for a drive to get my lunch is a nice break in the day (it’s good for the soul).

So, I get my Turkey or whatever, driving back, jamming, jonesin’ and I get to the parking lot and my car starts uncontrollably shaking it’s jelly like a ‘fat lady’s belly’. What’s going on now? I manage to wobble into the parking spot and my back left tire is absolutely FUCKED. There’s a huge gash on the sidewall and I have no clue how it got there, I’m pretty sure I didn’t run over anything or hit any curbs but here’s a ‘theory’:

REWIND

Sunday May 1st 8:45 p.m. - I’m rushing back from dinner to catch the boxing match on ‘THE CONTENDER’ (which I still missed, but I think that one kid got a serious ass beating?) I park my car on the next side street, and in my rush, I just got out and ran. I quickly glanced over my shoulder, and THOUGHT that I accidentally took up two parking spots (it’s possible, but I doubt it). So maybe, just maybe, someone was mad that I took up two parking spots and slashed my tire? It’s a long shot, but I’m paranoid. Furthermore, if anyone has maliciously slashed a tire before, is it a slow-setting effect? Or does the tire go down immediately?

Ok back to yesterday:

Of course, like every other fool, I don’t have the proper equipment required to change the tire. So… in quick acting panic, I ran upstairs and grabbed co-worker C.R. and said this exactly: “Yo, my tire’s screwed, can you help?” C.R. agrees to do so, but not before he relays word around the office that “Nafie doesn’t know how to change a tire.” My boss comes up to me, and says, “You don’t know how to change a tire? Hmmm, well, my daughter doesn’t know how to change a tire either, but then again, she’s a 17 year old high school student.”

Alright, I NEVER said I don’t know how to change a tire. Let’s just keep it at that.

In the ten minutes it took to put on the doughnut tire, rumors were just BREWING all over the office. We come back inside, and all of a sudden C.R. is the butt of all the jokes. SOMEONE “hypothesized” that I played silly so I can get C.R. to change my tire for me (maybe because I didn’t want to get potentially my last NON-PINK-HI-LITER-RUINED article of clothing dirty… hmmm). Hmmm… Do I? Or do I not know to change a tire? Even though C.R. doesn’t read this blog (at least I hope not) – the aforementioned question will forever remain in rhetoric form.

5:00 p.m. – I roll out of work and go and make use of my ($360 initial cost) tire warranty. 100 dollars’ worth absolutely FREE, I love it!!! Through traffic, and labor time, I get done around 6:00 p.m. where I jet over to COMPUSA to return the “iBrick-Of-Death” (that’s where they told me that my shit was obsolete. Obsolete? Well, I definitely prefer the term ‘classic’ or ‘vintage’) but whatever, I was going to check eBay but then had a devious bulb go off in my head. In between my old charger, the new one (and all the screwdrivers I have in my quarantined bag) I think I might be able to make babies. I'll update on whether that works or not.

Oh, before I forget, dinner was free, because I didn’t really get to eat lunch. My appetite was shot by my tire-woes and I STILL had my turkey in my car when I got home. Stale, room-temp turkey, it’s not Eleanor, but hot sauce makes EVERYTHING better.

Note: Why would G-GG-G-G-G-UNIT ever go-ahead and bring Mary J Blige on their track and have her absolutely embarrass them as self-proclaimed ‘lyrical’ Messiahs. 50 Cent and The Game invite Mary J. Blige to just SMASH 'Hate it or Love it', This is DEFINITELY one of the most accurate, well sung, deep and incredible performances I’ve ever heard. “The Soul/ Hip Hop queen” makes the best use of 2 rappers by keeping them in their place as her chorus singers. Go’head … envy her.