I guess I heard the air leaking from my tire when I got home yesterday; it just didn't occur to me what it was. I heard a hissing sound, thought to myself, "Well, I don't smell gas", and went on inside. Didn't give it another thought...until 2 hours later, when I'm returning from visiting a cousin in the hospital and I heard another horrible sound. The sound of a flat tire. I managed to find a relatively empty parking lot, and called my brother, who was fortunately in town (and actually sitting in my driveway waiting for me). We were supposed to be heading to a Nada Surf concert; instead he met me in the parking lot of Wild Oats' and swapped my flat for a doughnut. "How nice," he said, "to use this emergency roadside kit on someone else's car for a change." Glad I could help.
I'm sure that tire changing was taught in my high school drivers' ed class. I'm also sure that I missed that lesson thanks to my good friend Kendra and the super-cute boy that we managed to talk into sharing the practice car with us. Oh, man, he was a hottie - Josh, I think, with the prettiest hair I've ever seen on a boy. Alas, the class ended, he returned home (he was visiting his grandparents who lived in my town), and we never spoke again...and I still can't change a tire.
